


Unraveling Fates

by PsychicBeagle



Series: Unraveling Threads [8]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: And Maybe Meta with the Ton, Figurative and Literal, Internal Conflict, Meta (without the Ton), Pseudoscience with Spacetime, Timeline Shenanigans up to 15, Very Angry Fish, Very Angry Skeleton, Very Confused Goat(s), external conflict
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-10-17 00:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 114,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10582374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychicBeagle/pseuds/PsychicBeagle
Summary: The infinite Charas have been banished. No bodies were left to fester, and the injured stand on the brink of recovery. Even those deemed truly lost have risen once more. It should be happily ever after......but that's never enough, is it?A prince, reunited with his crown, stands torn between his countless pasts and a present he finds no respite in.A knight, once the pinnacle of her race, rendered little more than backup to a child and a comedian, her only means to rise once more as unruly and uncooperative as her youngest recalled self.A child, burdened with the lives of those they love and the very timeline upon which they lie. Even the shadow at their feet seems to be closing in...A pile of bones given purpose once more, torn between loyalties and logic at every turn. It's so hard to care.Truly, there is no rest for the Determined.Sequel to Spirits Bound. You'll want to read that first, and The Broken Clock before that. It's getting to be pretty lengthy, I know.





	1. Black Sheep

            “Ah, I see.” A pencil scratched on paper. The strokes were somehow precise and quick despite being held in a loose hand. Dr. Pauly stopped for a moment, taking a drink from the root beer on the edge of his desk. I had to respect his foresight, using a straw so he didn’t risk getting moisture from the can on his notes. “I’ve heard whispers of when you and Shyren performed together once or twice, mostly in dreams.”

            “And by that, you mean Sans?”

            “Yeah. I must say, for someone without a fancy degree, he really knows how to take care of rogue dreams.”

            “Considering he’s lived through most of them…” Frisk shrugged, careful not to shift the casts on their arms too much.

            “Good point. So, back to Shyren, I’m thinking recreating that event in our timeline would be beneficial, concentrating more major events into one package and boosting the public’s morale at the same time.” It was still weird talking so openly about timelines to a human besides Frisk. We didn’t even bring them up at home all that much, but it was essentially the center of discussion in that plain white office. Then again, it would be pretty hard to figure out what was wrong with our heads without diving into what our past instances did.

            _‘If he’s trying to make a list, he’ll need more paper than that little notebook.’_ I fought back a snicker, something that was getting harder and harder to do with every passing day around Sans.

            _‘Especially if he insists on writing down details of each and every run. I mean, between the two of us, that’s at least half a million, right?’_ A ball of energy in my chest bobbed up and down.

            _‘Unless he covers mine with Frisk. Mine and theirs did kind of, you know, cross over.’_ Right, possessor and all. I had gotten pretty good at keeping a straight face when the thought crossed my mind. Besides, it wasn’t like we could just outright tell him Chara was still in my head. He had already heard about more than a few Genocide runs, and I was sure his first move after being told the instigator was still around would be to call the authorities. I mean, I hadn’t even let Mom or Dad in on it, and I doubted I ever could. What would they…

            “Hey!” A snap of the fingers brought me back out of my haze. I shot up, noticing I had slumped over in my seat, and there was some fluid buildup in the back of my eyes. “You alright there, Asriel? Kind of spacing out on us.” I rubbed the back of my head, blushing profusely.

            “Sorry, Sir, I was talking to someone.” Keeping details vague was second nature by that point. I knew the other Souls probably wouldn’t take kindly to being a scapegoat, and I didn’t want my cover story to crumble if whoever I pinned it to forgot the ploy, but the ambiguous route was easiest to hold up under light scrutiny. Pauly’s right eyebrow twitched upwards, but he retained his relaxed posture and grin.

            “They must have some pretty interesting things to say then. I guess it supports Frisk’s claims about voices in your head being an easy distraction, and considering you have an extra six floating around in there…” I laughed it off, masking the sigh of relief. I was almost afraid he would start prying deeper, and on-the-fly lies only really held up when they weren’t questioned.

            The clock in the far corner started ringing. Pauly pulled a small rubber ball out of his rainbow patterned swim trunks, tossing it over his shoulder. Without looking, he managed to hit the snooze button for about the twelfth week running.

            “Looks like it’s time to wrap things up. You guys sure you don’t need a lift back to Ebott?” The heavy clang of metal marked the opening of the door, Greater Dog’s armor ringing like a kitchen in a tornado. He stepped aside, leaving us a straight path out.

            “Think we’ll be alright.” Pauly snickered at the severe understatement.

            “If you say so, Frisk. See you next week, and don’t worry about the prep work. I’ll drop Mettaton a line later. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind lending his backup singer and a small stage for an afternoon.” If it was for Frisk, probably not. A concert actually sounded pretty nice. The last time they did it was at least five timelines ago, and I couldn’t really enjoy it on account of… Well, you know.

            Frisk leaned back, getting into a relaxed position for the walk home. It looked like it was easier said than done, though, especially without the ability to bend their legs. They were more patient than I could ever be. The very idea of losing my limbs again was terrifying on a hundred levels. I had them now, though, and I was more than happy to use them. I took a firm grip on the push bars at the back of their wheelchair, rolling it back and forth a few times to make sure the tires wouldn’t lock up.

            “Hey, Asriel, could you hold up a sec?” Pauly was back at his desk, stowing his notepad away in one of the upper drawers.

            “Uh, sure, did you need something?”

            “I was just thinking these sessions are a little lopsided. It’s mostly Frisk laying things out, and even when you do pitch in, it’s only ever about where your story and Frisk’s cross over.” He took a deep drink of his root beer, draining it to the last drop. “I want to help both of you out, but I can only do that if you each get enough time for your own respective sessions. This sharing the hour thing just won’t cut it.” His pencil hovered over a little calendar, scanning the days.

            “Tell you what, I’ve got an open slot at about the same time every Wednesday. You think you can swing by tomorrow for a trial run?” My eyebrows knit together, thinking about the ripple effects. It was true that I hadn’t really done that much here for the last few months, but Frisk needed my help to get around, and then there was the cost. I mean, we were well off, but I didn’t want to be that much of a burden. He picked out the way my eyes sank instantly.

            “Don’t worry about the extra fee. We’ll just say Frisk’s current rate covers both of you.” My heart leaped at the generosity. It was hard to say no when someone reached so far across the aisle, and, come to think of it, Greater always did try to take Frisk off my hands…

            “…Okay, I think I’ll go for it.”

            “Excellent.” He scribbled some notes on tomorrow’s date. “I’ll see you here after school, then. Unless you’d rather be picked up somewhere?” I shook my head, pretty sure I could handle the walk. Even if there was danger, I was reasonably certain no one wanted to mess with the royal heir with an army of guards behind him and the inherited ability to throw fire. “If you’re sure. Feel free to grab a few cold ones on the way out, my treat!”

            “Thank you, Doctor!” Frisk nodded his way, too, mirroring my appreciation. Greater slipped in, crouching down to the mini fridge by the door. He grabbed an iced tea, affixing it to the arm of Frisk’s chair with an extra long straw, and a can of soda for me. I liked tea, sure, but I had enough of it at home.

 

-

 

            It was a nice, sunny day out. The last of the chill in the air had fled, marking the beginning of Summer. We were lucky New Haven was so close to Ebott, and doubly lucky that the path between them was so well taken care of. It was a natural, dirt trail, but the trees and shrubs on each side were a vibrant green that only came from careful cultivation. A small, shriveling part of me was almost jealous.

            _‘At least you can move around without getting dirt in your everything.’_ I shivered at the wave of memories.

            _‘Tell me about it. I think there’s still a grain somewhere up my nose.’_

 _‘So_ that’s _what that niggling little itch is about.’_

            “Hey, Asriel? I can’t reach the straw.” While I was distracted, Frisk’s one way to get at their tea had turned on them, pointing out in the exact wrong direction, and there was no way their arms could reach out far enough to correct it. I could, though, quickly spinning it around and holding it in place so they could take a sip.

            “There, that better?” They nodded, but their subdued happiness was even more… subdued than usual. It was almost creepy how receptive I was getting to the nigh invisible changes in their basic deadpan expression. For example, they wouldn’t be using that sort of face at all on such a beautif… nice day unless they had something on their mind.

            “Sorry if I’m being too needy.” And that was all I needed to hear to understand. I looked to the sides, making sure there was no one else around. It was only us and Greater Dog, who was already sworn to secrecy. No one needed to know the prince of monsters was once the second most dangerous thing that ever tried to exterminate them.

            “You know I’ve done way worse to you. When you think about it, I guess you can call this making up for lost karma.” I was about to add something to the effect of it being my fault anyway, failing to get them out of harm’s way, but a little kick in the back of my head stopped my rambling there.

            “You don’t owe me anything. That was Flowey, not Asriel.” I felt my ears subconsciously droop.

            “I know, but you’re not the only one I need to prove myself to…” I shook my head, forcing my ears back into the right position. “Besides, you’re, like, way too mellow to hold a grudge. How many of your best friends tried to kill you?” Frisk’s eyebrows crunched together, twitching their fingers one by one.

            “Um, everyone but Papyrus and Lansot?” Against my better judgment, I snorted. They didn’t even have that much luck with other humans, Brutus almost steamrolling Frisk the first time they met. “Have to wonder what that looks like on the doctor’s evaluation.”

            “Well, I attacked you three times in this timeline alone, but he still lets me stay in the same room. It can’t be too bad, right?” They shrugged, leaning back and letting their body rest completely. Their eyes went distant, and I had the sudden impression that they weren’t listening anymore. I couldn’t complain, though. The voices in your head could be pretty distracting.

            My eyes trailed down to the back of their neck, where their sweater bulged slightly more than was strictly needed. Even with fabric in the way, I could imagine that white, cracked mask perfectly. I shivered, even the picture in my brain staring intensely at me. Gaster was unsettling at the best of times.

            The air seemed to shift as we crossed an unseen border, an aura of magic coming over us like a wave. It was a comforting feeling, one that told me I was home. It was a shame humans didn’t have the right makeup to feel it. The last of the greenery passed by, opening up to Ebott village proper.

            It had come along pretty well in the last eight months, going from a loose collection of tents to the hub of monster kind. Construction was strained at first thanks to the long held monster mentality of just putting a house wherever it would fit, but with a little direction from Frisk, it was nearly indistinguishable from a human town.

            Barring the population, anyway. It was a little more busy than usual, each sidewalk occupied by at least three monsters. It was busier than I would have liked, pushing a wheelchair and all, but our next stop wasn’t too far away anyway.

            I took the first right when the dirt path ended, winding up at the far end of the sidewalk from four younger monsters. There was a mouse with exceptionally long ears, a little white rabbit, a Snowdrake, and a Temmie. I recognized them from school, but I couldn’t quite remember their names. My ears perked, picking up on their conversation. The rabbit looked pretty pleased with himself.

            “Alright, long straw! Looks like I’m Frisk!” I smiled, tempted to shake them awake so they could see the praise first hand. They always got that embarrassed twinge in their eyes. They should’ve expected it by now, being a two time hero and idol to monsters everywhere, but they weren’t exactly one for the spotlight. “So, so, who has the short one?” There was some muttering between the Snowdrake and mouse, but then the Temmie stuck out her tongue, revealing an inch long length of plastic.

            “Yeah yeah! Look lik Tem is duh mean hooman!” My ears clamped shut on their own, not that it stopped the sound from coming through. The dichotomy of long straw to short straw made it clear who the human in question was. The mouse looked at her incredulously.

            “Why would you be excited to be Chara? They’re the villain, you know.” It wasn’t like I hadn’t gotten used to it, and they weren’t completely in the wrong thinking like that. They had done some awful stuff, some would say unforgivable, but I was in their shoes before. Not that they knew it…

            “Cuz, someone has tu be villain. Why not have fun with it?” Both of us recoiled at that.

            _‘That was… unnervingly on the nose.’_ I nodded, keeping my eyes firmly off the Temmie. For fur balls that were so far out in their own little world, they could be almost as perceptive as Sans when the mood hit them. Good thing they were too… unique to put it to use.

            “Hey, look, it’s mister Dremer!” I jolted back, surprised by the sudden cat thing balancing on top of the wheelchair’s handles. “Hoi! Tem has question for as real!” I choked down the yelp of shock that almost came out.

            “Okay, what did you need?”

            “As real knew char hooman, right? Stuck with for, lik, twenty years. How should Tem act tu bee lik char for game?” I knew that excuse would come back to bite me. We told the humans that Frisk had saved me from a cave in, hence the sudden appearance of a prince, but monsters knew that timeline just didn’t add up. We had to tell them it had something to do with the mob of other world Charas that attacked just before I came back. It worked, but now everyone had a reason to assume I had some sort of grudge. I guess my discomfort was pretty obvious, the mouse swooping her up in her ears.

            “Oh God, sorry about that, Prince Dreemurr.” She bowed towards me with closed eyes, keeping her ears up so she didn’t drop the Temmie, and my cheeks lit up. Thank goodness for blush obscuring fur.

            “No no, it’s alright! You can’t blame her for being so open any more than you can blame a fish for swimming.” One eye slid open slightly, nervously, before she felt at ease enough to let up on the formality. You would think they’d be more relaxed around me considering Dad’s friendly ruling style, but apparently the once missing prince was still a wild card in their eyes. Especially since their first encounter with Mom was her storming through the Underground to blast Dad into a wall. It was hard to tell which traits I ended up with, so why risk it?

            The Temmie shimmied her way deeper into her perch’s head fur, paws hanging over her forehead, and stared at me expectantly. I gulped, knowing there was no way to escape a determined Temmie, but I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t list the positives as I saw them, since that would put my ‘backstory’ into question, but I couldn’t just blurt out the public’s view of Chara. Especially with them right there in my head.

            _‘Dude, it’s fine.’_ I could feel their eyes rolling. _‘I think you’re taking more offense than me here. Just say whatever you think’ll be enough for them. We have places to be, you know.’_ I sighed, deciding a bit of careful phrasing was necessary. I ducked behind a friendly, polite mask, the most well practiced one in my arsenal.

            “They were really… focused. When they wanted something, they’d go for it. Hesitation was just a foreign idea, always smiling no matter what they were charging into.” The Temmie was absorbing my words, eyes barely jittering, and the mouse was staring at me, dumbstruck. She probably thought I didn’t want to talk about it. She was right, of course, but the last thing I wanted was to come across as dismissive. “I think you had the right idea before. Whatever they did, they found a way to enjoy it. Keep that confidence and you’ll be fine.” Her eyes sparked, expression locking into rigid detemmienation.

            “Aye aye, mister Dremer! Come on, Tem be mean char hooman now!” She dropped out of view, sliding back to the others on her belly, and the mouse ran after her, giving a little nod before her attention returned to their game. My frame loosened, relieved to have the weight of the act off my shoulders.

            “It seem you’re more slick than you let on. The more things change, yes?” That sophisticated, echoing voice made my fur stand on end, eyes hesitantly going down to Frisk. They were still motionless, looking the opposite way, but I couldn’t ignore the violet glow coming from the back of their sweater.

            “Oh, Gaster. I take it Frisk’s too worn out?” I didn’t even bother to hide how spooked I was. He was too observant to fool after the fact. It would come across as me having something to hide, the type of feeling you never knowingly give a scientist.

            “I’m afraid so. Working around this restrictive chair is a mite _tiring_.” Using puns to contrast with and highlight a naturally threatening aura. Gee, I wonder where Sans got it from. “Hmm, you usually laugh when Sans jokes. I would have thought he would frighten you more than me.”

            “Well, he _scares_ me more, sure. But you…” I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. He had been cordial ever since I got my normal form back, even supportive of my emotional recovery at times, but I couldn’t figure him out. He broke the rules as I knew them just by existing. There was no telling what someone from beyond time and space was capable of, and that uncertainty wasn’t helped by his only known face being a static mask. “I guess you’re like a Sans I haven’t fought a few million times.”

            “And, with any luck, it will never come to that. You’re a fine lad, so us crossing blades would mean something has gone catastrophically wrong on one or both of our ends.” Divorcing his tone from his origins, he reminded me of a more jolly, open version of John. The manners of a grandfather hiding the intelligence to shatter the natural order. After all, I came from his own daughter’s experiments. “At the end of the day, I can’t say it’s unreasonable for a part of you to assume the worst. Sans wouldn’t strike anyone as more than a comedian at first glance, and, as the saying goes, like father like son.”

            “Does that mean I get a warning?” He chuckled reservedly.

            “Oh dear boy, where’s the fun in knowing what’s coming?” I wasn’t sure, but I thought my spine was trying to skitter away, dragging most of my organs along for the ride. All it would take was one more veiled possible threat for them to find ejecting the preferable option, but I was glad to see the shiny, metallic lab come into view. Hopefully he would be too preoccupied for the next hour or so to prod any further.

 

-

 

            I found myself wandering through the iron bowels of Alphys’s lab. I would’ve preferred being there to get Frisk’s results in real time, but I knew she was having some sort of reaction to me being a stone’s throw away. Every time I looked, she had at least a corner of her eye on me and at most a good two-thirds of her focus. That kind of distraction would only make it take longer, and I didn’t want to be the one inadvertently holding everything up. Besides, it was hard to take accurate fluid samples with the doctor sweating on them.

            _‘Maybe you should talk to her. She’s the nervous type, sure, but this is even worse than back in the Underground.’_

 _‘I know, I know, but it should be on my own time. I’m not gonna burn up Frisk’s afternoon dealing with my personal junk.’_ They scoffed, but it was more of a general expression than directly at me.

            _‘Why is it that it’s the people that go out of their way to help others that people never want to, quote, ‘bother?’ It makes no sense.’_ Come to think of it, that was pretty weird.

            _‘…I guess I just don’t want to pressure them into helping. If they help, it’s their choice, but I’m not going to make that decision for them. We both know they’d feel too guilty to say no.’_ Taking advantage of their good nature was something I would never be comfortable doing again.

            I turned a corner and bumped into the back of a writhing, white blob that towered over me. Its surface bubbled, the flat back morphing into countless legs holding up a black, dripping face hole and pointed ears. Its neck craned when it saw who was there, crouching down towards me while its tail swished thickly behind it.

            “Endogeny! What’re you doing here, buddy?” It must’ve been time for its monthly DT stability check. Amalgamates were nigh invincible, but it never hurt to make sure they weren’t falling apart any worse than usual, and there was only one person who knew enough about their biology to do it. I reached out a hand, and it rubbed its head against my wrist. The contact tingled, our loose Determination mingling.

            Out of nowhere, my chest locked up, all my muscles becoming almost immovable. A thousand thoughts ran unbidden through my mind. Pain. Loss. Sorrow. Regret. Guilt. And they only got worse the closer I looked at him. His once white, greyed fur. The deep, dark bags under his eyes. His twisted, dulled gold armor…

            A low, gurgled whine dispelled the illusion, returning Endogeny to its amorphous, fluid appearance. My head throbbed and my heart ached, the old memories colliding with reality. It backed away, looking at its body in what could only be regret.

            “No, no, it’s okay. Even if you did leak enough DT, it wouldn’t hurt me like other monsters.” It was a fight getting my mouth and lungs to cooperate long enough to get my words out, the end result a strained mess, but it looked like it eased its worries somewhat. It was still concerned, though, head tilting to one side. “Don’t worry, I think I know what’s wrong. I just need somewhere to lie down, sort it all out…”

            Its ears perked, body sliding down into a slightly misshapen ball. A crease formed in the middle, giving it the appearance of a bean bag chair with a head. My heart warmed at the sight.

            “We oddballs have to stick together, eh?” I tried taking a step towards it, but my leg went numb, the right half of my body losing its support. I would’ve hit the floor pretty hard if not for Endogeny’s quickly deployed tendrils. It lifted me up, gently setting me down in the makeshift chair. Its surface sank in like a nice cushion, and anywhere our skin touched experienced that calming buzz of magic.

            I pet it as well as I could, mind already starting to fade out. My limbs grew heavy, and my eyes slid shut, the world beyond my eyelids getting too fuzzy to focus on. The sterile, silvery halls went dark.

            My eyes opened, and my world completely reversed. Alphys’s lab was carefully put together, halls built in a perfect grid pattern. Its colors were dull, uninteresting in and of themselves, but the fashion wasn’t high on her priority list anyway.

            The world inside my head, however, was bathed in color, a rainbow of seven hues sprawling out in any given direction. The space was wide open, undefined, more spiritual in nature than physical. My manifestation there was as light as the energy around it, allowing full three dimensional movement through the streams of raw Determination.

            I drifted downwards, heading for the center of my pains. Below me, seven bright beacons showed me the way. A ring of six hearts floated slowly around, revolving around the seventh, red Soul that marked the core of my being.

            If I looked closely at the others, I could see the faint outline of a human. I didn’t quite understand why projections of a Soul needed to rest, not even after Chara explained it to me. Apparently the average Soul is tied to the sleeping pattern of the body it’s tied to, entering a comatose state at the rate a physical form would need. It didn’t appease the thought that my entirely energy based body should charge them anyway, but I had enough to think about without all the metaphysical baggage I picked up lately.

            “She’s over here.” A red form stood out against the glow of the green Soul, waving a hand back and forth to draw my attention. The closer I got, the more defined their features became, eventually coming through as a monochromatic recreation of Chara. “I’d talk to her, but, you know…” They shrugged, trying to distract me from the guilty gleam in their eyes.

            “Yeah, got it.” I patted their shoulder, giving a thankful smile. Their tension diminished a little, working up the courage to look me in the eyes. “Why don’t you head on up and keep Endogeny company? I’m sure it’d appreciate it.” They nodded, dragging themselves back to the real world. Their figure faded away as they neared the head, melding with the uncontrolled body.

            I reoriented myself downwards, dropping beneath the Soul ring. The energy there was a little more solidified, creating a floor with seven upraised pedestals. It took a little while to figure out how to manually reshape my internal structure, but it was worth it, giving us a space with some semblance of normal gravity. It was, unsurprisingly, pretty disorienting to drift through a void without physics for too long.

            I found her sitting under the purple Soul, curled up in a ball. She reached a green hand out, but retracted it, debating with herself whether she should wake John up or not. Her eyes were distant, empty, and her arm hanged loosely in the air like a marionette with flimsy strings.

            “You know he’d be more than happy to help, right?” She flinched, body locking up, but eased up a moment later.

            “…Sorry. About your body. I didn’t mean to…” I could only look at her in sympathy. Terry’s experience in the Underground took a lot away from her. Her sense of self, her passion, even the lust for life that she once overflowed with. I considered it a miracle that she could bring herself to communicate at all.

            “It’s fine, seriously. I know coming back after all that… isn’t the easiest thing.” I walked calmly up to her platform, taking a seat next to her. “Endogeny, right?” She nodded, burying her eyes in her crossed arms.

            “It’s such a sad way to live. Constantly at the edge of death, only kept alive by something that drains away your individuality, leaving behind a clump of wasted, tormented lives.” She hiccuped, choking back a sob. “And it’s all my fault! If I hadn’t listened to Avat… I mean, Chara…” Her words were running into each other, her speaking turning sloppy. I reached out, wrapping and arm around her shoulders.

            “Go on, let it out. If you don’t want to wake him up, then I can stay here as long as you need me.” She looked up at me, barely holding back the tears.

            “Why? Why are you being so… nice? I can’t go anywhere, so what do you really want with me?”

            “I thought you, of all people, would know.” I took in the color of her Determination, a deep, forest green. “A little kindness goes a long way. You might be stuck with me, with us, but that doesn’t mean I have to be cruel.” I cringed internally, a high, screeching laughter ringing in my head. “Sometimes, it’s easy to forget. I forgot once, but Frisk reminded me. Consider this as me passing on the buck. Besides, I can sympathize.” I smiled ruefully, staring at my free hand, the phantom of a dusty, yellow petal flashing in and out.

            “We both have dust on our hands that just won’t come off.” I shook off the memories, dispelling that manic, sadistic grin from my thoughts. When I looked back to Terry, I was both relieved and mellowed by the tears running down her cheeks. She curled into my sweater, the valves flying open under the built up pressure. “That’s it, just like that. By the time you’re done, it’ll be a lot easier to think. Trust me.” A buzzing, staticky noise interrupted my pep talk.

            “If it was anyone else here, this would all look highly suspicious.” John floated down to our level, violet eyes trained on us. It was the sort of stare that could break through even the most perfected poker face. It was a lot less intense than when he first woke up in here, but that’s not saying much. I could hear Terry trying to fight down the tears so she could get a coherent sentence together, but that sort of interruption would only hurt her healing. My mind was a lot quicker.

            “Sorry about waking you up, but it’s kind of important.” He nodded, studious gaze softening.

            “I can see that.” He kneeled down, gesturing for me to move. I retracted my hold on her, and he took my place. He pulled her in tightly, and her crying redoubled. “He’s right, letting some tears out is a great way to relieve stress. No one here will judge you for it, I swear.” His eyes trailed back to me, accompanied by a grateful nod. “Thank you for looking out for her.”

            “It’s nothing, really. We’re all on this ride together, and I’m tired of leaving people behind.”

            “For better or worse.” He glanced up at the red Soul, the underlying fire in his heart still burning strong. “I hope you’re right about that one. For everyone’s sake. The mentality from back in the day paired with the power of a god is no laughing matter.”

            I could have replied a lot of ways. I could have reassured my stance for the hundredth time. I could have pointed out how there hasn’t been an incident since we came together months ago. I could have expressed my annoyance in his rigid stance against them.

            Instead, I said nothing, sitting on the sidelines incase they needed an extra hand. The best way to win an argument was to prove you were right, and Chara hadn’t disappointed me yet.

 

-

 

            The rest of the day wasn’t too notable, but it was pleasant. Frisk’s tests came back well, their body healing at a steady rate. We took the long way through town to celebrate, taking in some fresh air after being cooped up underground for a few hours. It was hard to think we were down even deeper less than a year ago. It was even harder to go back after seeing the Sun.

            We got home just as it was getting dark, barely making it in the doorway before our curfew. It wasn’t because Mom didn’t trust us after dark, mind you. It was more like, one, Frisk needed to rest up well to get better and, two, you never knew what kinds of shady characters would drift in after hours. She would rather we be surrounded by the strongest people we knew, heir and ambassador to all monster kind and all. We couldn’t be too careful.

            “Mom, we’re home!” Frisk yelled, and a sharp intake of breath was our response. I wheeled them into the living room, where Mom was rubbing her eyes.

            “Hello, my children.” She sounded sluggish, talking around a heavy yawn. “My, I suppose I was more tired than I thought.” It wasn’t uncommon for her to be worn out in the afternoon these days. Between running the school and attending royal duties when the need arose, she always had a full plate. Even so, she usually had enough energy left to spend some time with us and make dinner. Speaking of, Frisk’s stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.

            “Heh heh, sorry.” Mom glanced to her cuckoo clock, seeing it was almost eight thirty.

            “Oh curses. I’m sorry, but anything I started making now would take too long. I meant to prepare something earlier, but I felt I needed to sit down, and the next thing I knew…”

            “It’s alright, we all have those days.” I felt I was speaking for both Frisk and myself. If there was one thing we knew, it was the weight of responsibility. “We’ll just have leftovers.” I set Frisk at their spot at the table before hurrying to the kitchen. I opened the fridge, but all that was left besides raw ingredients was a snail pie with just two pieces remaining. My brows furrowed together, knowing it wouldn’t be enough for all three of us. Mom peeked over my shoulder, coming to the same conclusion.

            “You two go ahead. I can find something small for myself.” The idea didn’t sit right with me.

            “But you have a big staff meeting in the morning, right? You need a good dinner for that.” I rifled through the shelfs, pushing aside bags of uncooked vegetables, meat, and snails to find something. “Come on, there has to be something more substantial in here. Macaroni, chicken…”

            “how ‘bout a _sans_ -wich?” I really should’ve been used to him coming out of nowhere, but some small part of me still jumped whenever he came in and punned out of scenic nowhere. “hey tori. i take it there’s a dinner problem?”

            “I meant to cook something, but I fell asleep too soon, and now…”

            “i can take az out if you want. then you and the kid can just finish off that pie.” Mom’s posture straightened, a worried look in her eyes.

            “Are you certain about that? I trust you, Sans, but…” She looked back and forth between us, and I knew exactly why. I liked Sans enough, too, but considering our history, the idea of being alone with him was more than a little intimidating. And we all knew that he knew it.

            “you really think i’d hurt him? how bare bones is your opinion of me?” He pulled his hands out of his voluminous jacket pockets, holding them both up with his palms forward. “if he goes with me, i promise you’ll get him back in just as many pieces as he left with.” He chuckled to himself.

            “how messed up is it that the lazy guy has to promise he won’t do anything wrong? a world gone mad, i tell ya.” His hands went back to their usual spot, his body dipping back into that trademarked, relaxed slouch. Mom’s hesitation was still there, but it was stricken with the sudden realization that she was giving one of her closest friends the cold shoulder.

            “Asriel, do you have any objections to his offer?” I hid the kernel of suspicion that still lingered in my heart, looking at the situation logically. It would take care of our dinner problem, just as advertised, and he would never get away with doing something to me. Word of my death would travel fast, and the moment Frisk heard, they’d reload a Save and confront him about it. And, if we were going where I thought we were going, there would be too many eyes on him anyway.

            “It sounds alright to me. Thanks, Sans.” His smile got a little more genuine, but just a little.

            “no problem. i was heading to grillby’s anyways, so why not bring a plus one?” Mom gave in with a sigh.

            “Very well. Do try to be back before ten, yes? They have school in the morning, you know.”

            “ah, i remember those days. having your schedule dominated by someone beyond your control. i can relate.” With the way he winked, I wasn’t sure if he was being genuine or not. At least it was his left eye he was closing. The other way around was one of the worst signs you could get. “i’ll get ‘em there and back in time. i know a shortcut.” He reached out, offering a hand. We all knew how this worked, Mom closing her eyes as he took a solid grip. “see you in a bit, tori. tell frisk i said hi.”

            “Hi, Sans! Bye, Asriel, have fun!”

            “…well, never mind then. how do i keep forgetting what the kid’s capable of?” He winked again, shrugging his shoulders.

            A wave of navy blue magic crackled over me, my body suddenly feeling loose. I didn’t bother closing my eyes, my mind having gone through them enough to not flip inside out. The world went up in a shower of blue magic, though I knew it was technically the other way around, and the next thing I knew, we were standing on the sidewalk in front of Grillby’s. It looked like he upgraded the place, installing a big, orange and yellow neon sign in the shape of a candle’s flame. Or maybe it was his head without glasses. Either way, it looked pretty neat.

            Sans opened the front door, a cloud of scents washing over us. The natural smell of the flame retardant wood, the sizzling meats and side dishes from the back, the applewood-like smoke rolling from Grillby himself. The room was put together in a way that inspired the sort of easy going mood Sans thrived on. Polished wood floors with little cabin in the forest style walls, tables kept polished to a mirror’s shine, and even a potted flower at the corner of the bar. It was still young, maybe a couple of days past initial sprouting, but it looked like the sort of thing that would brighten the mood in the end. It all came together to paint an inviting, warm bar, perfect for winding down at after a tough day.

            Less inviting was the severe lack of customers. I should’ve thought of that much, considering how late it was, but it meant there were a lot less people around incase Sans had an ulterior motive, and, last I checked, he and Grillby were close enough to bury a secret. So fell my first safety net.

            “hey, grillbz, two burgs, some fries, and ketchup, if you would.” Grillby stopped polishing his glass, glasses reflecting our image.

            “Isn’t it a bit late for this? I was about to lock up for the evening.” My ears filtered out the crackles and sparks he actually made, directly translating his magical intent.

            “yeah, i know, but it was sort of an emergency. tori finally worked herself too hard, apparently.” A whistle, much like steam from a teapot, escaped Grillby’s suit.

            “I suppose our queen couldn’t retain her rabid pace forever, though ten months is a rather impressive run.” I took a bit of pride in the remark. Boss monsters were a hardy sort.

            “tell me about it. that girl’s got a real fire, that’s for sure.” I snickered at that one, and Grillby gave an impressed sizzle.

            “Two birds at once. Impressive.”

            “yeah, i know.” He shrugged, winking. “i’m flyin’ high these days.” That one reached a little too far, but it was still amusing enough. He let go of my hand, hopping up to his favorite seat at the edge of the bar. I followed suit, taking Frisk’s normal spot beside him.

            Grillby retreated to the kitchen to make our orders, leaving us alone. There was an awkward silence, no conversation topics coming to mind. It was the first time I had been in a situation where it was just him and me since I got back to actually being me. What was I supposed to say? Hey, sorry for making your existence living Hell for, oh, infinity there. It won’t happen again. No, that would probably come across horribly. I just stared at my hands, crossed on the countertop.

            “what’s wrong? skeleton goat your tongue?” I peeked over, his grin fairly good natured. But, then again, it was usually like that, up until he pulled out a blaster.

            “I’m, uh, not great with things like this. You know, lots of… baggage to go through. And stuff.” I had a sudden shot of sympathy for Alphys, always stuttering over her own words. Sans’s eyes softened.

            “hey, no need to get so spooked. i won’t overreact to a bit of bad phrasing, takes too much effort. ‘sides, if i mess up grillbz’s shop, my goose is cooked.” Shop keepers were serious about that sort of thing around here. Muffin was surprisingly threatening for someone with her sort of small, thin frame, though the giant muffin monster helped. I figured saying something was better than nothing, so I tried putting together some sort of response. Grillby came back before I could finish, a large tray balanced immaculately in his arms.

            “Your usual.” He set a plate down, piled high with fries, a burger set on top. A bottle of ketchup sat on the side. “Your burger and fries.” My plate was next, stacked with an equally large stack, barring the ketchup. “And a small… show of gratitude.” Unexpectedly, he followed up with a large glass, filled to the brim with a chocolate milkshake. “I’m expanding the menu, thought you would like the first try. Do enjoy, your majesty.” The official title sent a chill down my spine.

            “Hey, you don’t have to hand out freebies for royalty. I have enough to cover it right…” He held up a hand, shaking his head.

            “I know the Dreemurrs aren’t the sort for charity. This is for something else.” He pushed his glasses up, looking at me closely. “Would the human with the orange Soul happen to be present?” My mind went back to the vision I gleamed from the guy in question when he first woke up, instantly connecting the dots.

            “He’s actually… well, asleep isn’t the right word… resting, I guess. I can go get him, if you want.”

            “No, no, I wouldn’t want to bother him too much over this. There will be more chances, I am certain.” He set his tray in the sink, opening the counter below it to retrieve his fedora. He tilted it towards us in respect. “Enjoy your meal. The key is in the usual place if you would be kind enough to lock up for me.” Sans nodded, and Grillby was off, back to his nice, warm, safe house.

            Here I was, all alone with someone I only half trusted. My one saving grace was the one golden rule I could depend on. These people respected Frisk, and Frisk cared about me. I felt like a scumbag leaning on my connections for protection, but it was the only assurance I had beyond Sans’s double entendre laden promises.

            “might wanna eat that before the room’s temp starts gettin’ to it. milkshakes lose that special something when they’re soup.” I kicked myself for forgetting rule one of deception. Long, quiet pauses doing nothing were always suspicious. Keep doing something at all times, even if it was something erroneous.

            I took the shake, savoring that cold zing to my palms, and sipped on the straw. The fluid was a little thicker than it should be, probably from a bad balance between milk and ice cream, but the flavor was remarkable. It was like raw chocolate in cold, liquid form. Chara hummed in approval.

            _‘fire dude knows his chocolate.’_ I had to agree, stirring up the delectable drink to account for the gap I left right in the middle. It was always annoying when your straw just kept sucking up air despite there being plenty of shake still in there. A low, kind of bit-crushed chuckle met my ears.

            “wow, you must _really_ have a thing for cocoa. i thought that was chara’s schtick?” An alarm went off. He never brought them up by name when he could help it. Never whisper the name of Cthulhu, or something like that. I needed a response, fast, or he would know I was on to him.

            “What kid doesn’t like ice cream?”

            “the lactose intolerant.” I saw a gap in logic, as wide as the ocean.

            “Monster food doesn’t trigger reactions like that. Instant absorption, remember?” His eyes opened wide, realizing his blunder. “Your wordplay’s really lactose-ing here. I thought you milked it for all it was worth?” He set down his burger, giving in to a hearty laugh.

            “oh man, that’s great! you and the kid been practicin’?” I smiled pridefully, derailing a possibly horrible situation and impressing the resident joker in one move. A part of me was worried he’d notice the play for what it really was, but the rest was too satisfied with myself to care. “heh, isn’t that better than the whole pins and needles act you were pullin’ earlier?” Surprised, I thought about it, noticing all those nerves that were building up since we got here had faded away. I was still cautious, but who wouldn’t be?

            “I guess the joking kind of disarmed the mood.” He nodded sagely.

            “why do you think i like ‘em so much? people focus so hard on the jokes they don’t realize what i’m keepin’ track of. then again, i probably don’t have to tell you that, do i?” The uneasiness returned in force, though the flinch on his part told me it wasn’t completely intentional. “kid, i know we have a lot of history, mostly not very good.”

            “So that’s what you call masterminding an infinite time loop specifically to turn you and everyone you love into playthings? Good to know.”

            “let me finish, ‘kay?” He sighed, his smile faltering, eye sockets drifting shut. “az, i won’t lie, more than a few of my bones are shaking right now. telling me to blast you into next week before you find a way to throw us back to the underground.” That was a comforting thought, considering he could blow the whole population of Ebott away with his pinky finger. “but the rest of me knows what’s actually up. all that twisted junk that happened, it wasn’t just your fault, end of story. power does… funny things to your head. excessive determination, piled on top of a lifetime of flaws, can drive even the best of us to do horrible things. you’re all lucky i didn’t like doing things back then, otherwise…” He shook his head, noticing he was going off topic.

            “the point i’m trying to make here is yeah, you did some bad stuff. stuff that’ll haunt both of us for the rest of our lives, maybe even beyond.” My eyes fell, my confidence dwindling until I couldn’t even hold my head up anymore, but the sturdy grasp of blue magic pulled my eyes to his. “but now, you’re trying to change. you’re trying to be better. really, would the old flowey offer to drag their mortal enemy around in a wheelchair all day, every day for months on end?” His eye lights sparkled with certainty, and I think… pride.

            “flowey can go rot in a hole. but you, _asriel_ , you’re a good kid that got buried in his sins. as much as my logical mind tells me to hold you at blaster point, my battered old heart can only see someone trying to put the pieces back together. i was there once, and now i’m in a pretty nice spot. who says we can’t manage the same for you?”

            My heart skipped a beat, and when it restarted, it thudded heavily against my ribs. The one guy who I thought wanted me dead the most just vouched for my reformation. When he lifted his magical hold on me, I rubbed my eyes against my sleeve, taking a preemptive move against the tears of relief that threatened to overflow.

            “so, if i’m ever cold with you, just know it isn’t your fault.” I nodded, understanding where he was coming from. The old memories had a habit of resurfacing at the worst times, and I couldn’t see them being any easier for him. I reached a shaking hand out to my plate, picking up a handful of fries.

            “i can’t bring myself to hold a grudge against you anymore.” I chewed away, savoring the salty contrast to the thick, sweet shake, when I noticed the air was starting to cool. I looked around, hunting for an opened window, but none existed. Instead, I felt my blood running cold, staring out at a room whose colors were bleeding away to a dead grey. I knew what was happening instantly, hesitantly glancing to Sans. His eye lights had extinguished, leaving the infinite void that lurked within his skull.

            “IT’S YOUR OLD FRIEND I DESPISE.”


	2. Under the Looking Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all fights end in bloodshed, but the wounds are just as real.

            The wooden walls closed in around me, the healthy browns of Grillby’s bar draining away into a lifeless grey. Sans’s influence crept over everything in sight, leaving only the two of us, seated at the bar, in motion. His left hand slid out from his pocket, and he snapped his fingers.

            I doubled over, a hot, piercing pain shooting through my chest. I felt the tendril reaching around, going over each of the Souls in my being one by one. I would have tried to stop him, but my muscles were overloading from the raw, hostile DT his contact was putting off. I could only sit there and wait as his grip settled over the red Soul at my very core.

            “FOUND YOU. COME ON OUT.”

            I wriggled against his hold, but it was stronger than any metal, pinning me in place as my insides revolted at the unwanted intrusion. The DT flow in me pushed against him as hard as it could, but he didn’t budge, his hold on the Soul only tightening with time. I opened my mouth, about to start pleading, explaining myself, but all it took was one spark of blue in his left eye to silence me.

            “L E T H I M G O.” My mouth moved against my orders, and it wasn’t my voice coming out. It was higher, scratchier, and angered beyond all belief. The feeling in my limbs slowly drained away until all the hold I had left was over my eyes. They blurred intensely, and when the room came back into focus, everything was tinted crimson. Sans chuckled.

            “so, the old demon shows itself at last. almost thought you’d stick to the cloak and dagger a…” He stopped dead in his tracks, pushing back against a surge of energy in his magic field. My hands lifted, wrapping around the rope of magic piercing my chest. Their grip strengthened, claws digging in as deeply as they could, making it snap with a swish. My body flung itself backwards, landing on its feet at the far side of the bar. Sans leaned back on his stool, a show of confidence and power, but his left hand was still out in the open. “you know, it’s rude to interrupt someone while they’re talking.”

            “And it’s suicidal to lay a hand on my brother.” The tension in the air was ramping up, and I couldn’t do anything about it, stuck in the back of my own mind.

            _‘Chara, don’t do anything reckless!’_

            “Don’t worry, I won’t kill him, as long as he stays right there.” Sans whistled, shaking his head with a look of mock pity in his eyes.

            “those sound like fightin’ words. what’s our kill-death ratio looking like? last i checked, i was way ahead, and you don’t have a rewind button to lean on.” I could sense Chara was gearing up with some sort of cutting rebuttal, but Sans wasn’t done. “besides, nothing you could possibly do here would matter. if i win, i’ll tell frisk. they’ll Reload and intervene. if you win, it wouldn’t take them long to figure out where i went. last person i was seen with was you, and once frisk realizes that, they’ll Reload and intervene.” He chuckled, the reality of the situation worming into Chara’s thoughts. “see how futile it is, working against a time warper? i clocked out, like, a year ago. give or take a millennium.”

            “What the Hell do you want, Sans?” He smiled, sockets narrowing.

            “answers would be nice. for starters, i thought we sent all of you packing before, back in waterfall?” Chara sneered, fighting the urge to reach for a knife.

            “And I thought you were smart, bonehead. Those were all alternate timeline Charas. I’m the original, the only human who’s ever dusted you.”

            “so you _were_ there. i thought i saw your lanky hide skull-king around.” In their rage fueled state, they forgot who they were dealing with, indirectly exposing themselves to his scrutiny.

            “Yeah, I was there, and if I remember right, I’m the only one who actually went after Frisk when they fell. Your lazy bones just had a meltdown on the cliff instead of doing something productive!” His sockets widened fractionally, a mild show of surprise.

            “huh, sounds like you actually care. that can’t be, though. all you care about is the kill.” Their teeth grit, the emotional bile building.

            _‘Don’t let him get under your skin, that’s what he wants!’_

            “Yeah, let yourself think that, and when you go and get Asriel hurt, I’ll show you how much worse things can get than death!” Their muscles clenched, dropping into a fighter’s stance, forearms held up near their face. Sans still just sat there, aloof as ever.

            “you sound a bit like me when you killed pap. actually, a lot like me. single minded certainty that can’t bring itself to care about anything but one point, and when that point gets compromised, there you stand, promising a painful revenge,” He took a swig of ketchup, keeping his left eye on them at all times. “correct me if i’m wrong, but, from the looks of things, you’re trying to be redeemed, lack of dust piles over the last few months and all.” Chara’s eyes narrowed, fury only growing more intense.

            “If you could tell from the start, why the Hell did you threaten us!? You’re smart enough to just hint it or…”           

            “why the actual hell would i do anything for you?” The faux friendliness in his voice had vanished, leaving only the cold, calculating killer that hid beneath his smile. “i can’t blame frisk. they can only tangentially remember their part in the time loops. i can’t blame asriel. he was just trying to fill the void rampant DT leaves in its wake, and i can relate. but you?” He pushed against the counter, hopping to his feet. He aligned himself to face us head on, just as he had back when I was the genocidal one.

            “you screwed with time like frisk, but you can’t claim the same ignorance. i know damn well you remember each and every Reset crystal clear, just like flowey. my notes on your behavior wouldn’t line up otherwise. and speaking of the weed, you’ve got the same amount of blood and dust on your hands, but, from where i’m standing, you don’t have even half the reasons for doing any of it.” His eyes narrowed, and he tapped his foot impatiently. “so, out with it. if you can give me the best damn reason ever, i might back off.”

            I could feel Chara’s immediate reaction. Their thoughts flew by too quickly to read exactly, but I could decipher the emotions. Frustration. Confusion. Anger. Shame. Their head dipped, eye contact with Sans failing. I tried to drag them back up from where I was, but it was too late.

            “what’s wrong? you as petty and pathetic as i think you are? or maybe you really do have a good cause, but don’t want to clue me in?” His left hand rose above his head, and his fingers snapped. Static sparked, and from nothing, a white, hellish blaster emerged, already charging. “better hurry, these things can only hold a shot so long before…”

            “I don’t remember, okay!?” The room went quiet. Even the blaster, the symbol of relentlessness, let its energy drain away harmlessly. Chara stared doggedly at the ground, and their teeth grit together.

            “i already told you, your time loops only make sense if you…”

            “I heard you already! And yeah, my memories don’t get wiped when time Resets, but I’m talking about before that.” They lifted their hands up, staring at their open palms. “When I landed in the Underground, back before I met Asriel, all I remembered was how Souls and the magic around them work. When I died, all I remembered was how to use that knowledge to kill. Die, latch to someone else, kill. Over and over and over. I’m sick of it!” They threw their head back, and their fur rippled with a burst of DT. Their burning gaze fell back to Sans, lips drawn back in a fanged snarl.

            “But here you are, trying to lock me back in that damn role again!” Their hands clamped shut, the claws digging into their palms, and their gums were aching from the pent up pressure. The color of the room was skewing with every second, edging ever closer to a bloody monochrome. Sans was taken back for a moment, but only a moment. He climbed back into his chair, nonchalantly reaching over and popping a fry into his mouth.

            “so, what’re you gonna do about it? kill me?” I scrambled to break my way into the sensory inputs in my mind, the only way I had of averting what looked to be an unavoidable confrontation. Chara was better, but their legendary temper was still here in force. Sans was one of the few people who didn’t panic under its fire, taking a casual sip from his bottle. “go ahead, i guess. prove me right.” Before I could mess with a single pixel of their vision, Chara halted in their path, a new light shining down on their actions. Sans smiled smugly.

            “quite a boggle, isn’t it? let me go, i’m free to say whatever i want about you. strike me down, then yeah, i won’t be saying it anymore, but i’ll go off knowing i had the right idea. in the brief afternoon before frisk brings me back.” He winked, shrugging to distract from the way his taunting grin drooped. “damned if you do, damned if you don’t, and you only have yourself to blame.”

            “Shut the Hell up!” We all jumped at the gruff edge my voice took. Chara’s sleek, practiced combat stance was replaced by the wide shouldered, brutish technique you could only pick up from years on the street. I could feel my muscles swelling from the new host’s influence, a faint tinge of orange magic radiating up from under my fur.

            “So what’f you can’t see what we do? You’re focusing so hard on what they _were_ that you can’t see what’s right in front of your face! And people call me rash!” Sans composed himself from the sudden intrusion pretty quickly, looking at him as though nothing was wrong.

            “you’re bill, right? nice to meet’cha. name’s sans, though i’m betting you already knew that.” The only response he got was a narrowing of the eyes. “…kinda cold, not to greet a new pal.” Bill scoffed openly.

            “Kinda hard to call you a pal when you come in swingin’ at my pal. Back in the city, that’d be grounds for gettin’ stabbed or mugged.” It was hard to tell what his plan was besides yelling very loudly, but I had to give Bill props. He stood firm, despite me having detailed exactly what Sans could do. A little precaution, incase of a situation just like this one. Sans tapped a slipper against the base of his stool.

            “yeah, nowhere near as great a first impression as i’d hoped. here, maybe a magic trick’ll smooth things out.” He reached behind him, using blue magic to grab and drag the freshly sprouted flower from the corner of the counter. It slid to his side, regaining its fresh, green color as it entered the time bubble, coming to a stop under his waiting palm. “i think you guys are practicin’ growth spells at school now, right? here, have a demonstration.” He waved his hand in circles, all but his pointer finger and thumb bent slightly. A white powder trickled down, evaporating on contract with the plant and the soil in its pot.

            “look real close now. you’ll only see what i mean with one hundred percent focus.” Suddenly, the leaves shot upwards, the stem beneath them stretching out. It inflated outwards, building up the fibers it needed to remain upright. The very tip formed into a bud, which, too, filled out quickly.

            “Sure, make it up by gloating. You know damn well Az can’t do this stuff.”

            “and you’re calling me blind.” Bill’s nostrils flared, and I had the odd urge to redouble my efforts in reclaiming control. But, I couldn’t seem to focus, unable to tear my eyes away from the flower. Its bud was on the verge of blooming. I had a funny feeling in the pit of my gut, but I couldn’t tell why.

            “What’chu say!?”

            “the flat fact is that asriel isn’t making the plants grow. from there, you’re assuming his motives. rookie mistake, you’ll grow out of it. but the question remains. is it because he can’t do it…” The greenery parted ways, the fluffy interior pushing it open. The bulb opened wide, presenting five yellow petals.

            “…or because he won’t?”

            I recoiled, the golden gleam of the plant reaching deep into my mind. The energy around me was heating up. Too hot. Burning, even. I struggled to push it down, but I couldn’t. My spirit was throbbing. I had to do something, flinging myself forward, back to the uppermost layer of my body. Bill couldn’t mount any resistance, as shocked by my sudden aggressiveness as me.

            I couldn’t dwell on it, though. Even back in the real world, muscles deflating back to the size they should be, I couldn’t escape the pain. My chest was twisting in on itself, and my head pulsed with raw, undiluted agony. I tore my eyes away from the flower, but that only made it worse. I lost my focal point in reality, and my mind’s eye wandered.

            “Az, get a grip!”

            So many familiar places. A black pit, buttercups growing up to eye level on each side. A snowy forest, the cold freezing the thinnest of my membranes into fragile plates. A colorless void, vines sprawling out in every direction. A marble hall, bathed in golden light.

            “Asriel, please, come back!”

            So many familiar faces. A small, naive looking human, seemingly as defenseless as a baby lamb. An enthusiastic skeleton, his loud, booming voice drowning out my self satisfied chuckles. The human again, fallen down to one knee, bleeding profusely as they threw themselves out of the way of an incoming laser.

            “come on, kid, that’s enough.”

            A shorter, quieter skeleton, haloed by light blue magic. But, wait, his stance was different. He usually kept himself completely loose, the only tension stored exclusively in his left arm. This time, he was holding himself together more firmly. And he was closer now, right on top of me. His cold, humorless eyes were replaced by those of pity. His right hand shot from his pocket, out towards me. I ducked, expecting a wave of magic any moment…

            …No. That wasn’t right. He was predominantly left handed. If he was attacking, his left would be involved, but that one was still stashed away. No, it was his right hand this time, and I didn’t see a wisp of magic on it. And… where was the yellow gleam on his bones? He always reflected a little bit of the light in the Judgment Hall…

            …Unless we weren’t in the Judgment Hall. As my feet were pulled off the ground, my body reset into a sitting position, the phantom of that cold, empty place faded away, replaced by a warm, wooden counter and a plate of fries, a large burger balanced on top. There was a hand on my shoulder, the bend between each segment of its fingers too defined to accommodate a layer of flesh.

            “just take deep breaths, alright?” All my willpower had drained away, so I listened without an argument. My lungs filled and deflated in a regular pattern, each draw of air carrying the scent of freshly cut wood and a platter of greasy, inexpensive food items.

            “sorry, kid, but i had to make a point. if it’s any consolation, i get attacks like that at least weekly. i just hide it better.” Against my better judgment, I glanced towards him. He was looking straight ahead, moving his hand across my shoulder with enough pressure to work at the muscles. Just past him, the flower had been shoved out of his bubble, reverting to a dead, less reactive grey like the rest of the room.

            “your pal there said i was blind. well, i say it’s more like tunnel vision, and we’ve both got a case of it. you two see a long dead kid that wants to set things right, that wants to be better. if you really think it can be done, then more power to you.”

            “but it’s hard for me to see it under the mountains of dust and blood caked on their skin. when i look their way, i see the six human corpses and countless piles of dust scattered across the underground because of the war they dug back up. i see the good hearted prince broken down into a sadistic murderer with a god complex. i see the three people still wracked with waking nightmares because of the hell they put them through.” He chuckled, dry, insincere.

            “you know how many times frisk’s come to me, barely making it to my shoulder before breaking down into hysterics? if i had a G for every time they’ve sat there sobbing about how, “She was just melting, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t,” well, i wouldn’t have to worry about my tab with grillbz anymore. let me tell you, the little psychopath’s lucky i respect frisk’s decision to spare ‘em more than i hate their guts, or we wouldn’t be having this little chat.” An alarm went off in my mind, and my stomach dropped.

            “Wait, how did you know…?” Did Frisk tell him? Is that how he knew?

            “hey, i know that look, and no, frisk isn’t a snitch. i thought you of all people would see what’s up.” He leaned back in his stool, somehow reclining on a seat without a back to recline on. “i see things most people forget. the footnotes, the little details, every discrepancy. i figured out there was an extra head on your shoulders in less than a month, and i only see you once a day on average. frisk’s pushed themselves to nearly my level of observation on willpower alone, and they’re with you ninety percent of the time. if you can honestly tell me they’re still in the dark, i’ll eat my slipper here and now.” A few seconds of silence passed.

            “that’s what i thought. now, if i know frisk half as well as i think i do, i know they wouldn’t risk everyone’s lives, the future they’ve poured all their blood and tears into building, on a hunch. historically speaking, charas are the alpha mutts on the threat chart, and sitting at the tippy top on a pilfered, dusty throne is the one that kicked off our world’s time loop by tricking you into going green so long ago. frisk knows that better than anyone, and if they thought for even a second that they’d disappoint them in the end, they’d’ve rung me up in a heartbeat. they don’t have the Soul to do it themselves, but i’m more than willing. so, uh, if you’re still listening to me in there, if you were planning on betraying frisk’s trust…” He tilted his head towards me, just enough to show off the way his eye light was tinting blue.

            “DON’T.” He took a drink of his ketchup, settling back into a slouch, withdrawing his hand from my shoulder. “if you do, i’ll have to rip you out of there myself, and that would be such a hassle. then i’d have to find a new seventh Soul to keep you from going back to flowey, but, hey, i think we both know there’s already someone willing to fork theirs over if push comes to shove.”

            “Are… you using Frisk’s kindness as a threat?” I didn’t know if I should be more impressed or revolted by the underhandedness.

            “i’m just sayin’ that they’d probably answer the call before i even dialed them up. of all their regrets, leaving you behind was one of the big ones. why do you think they went so far out of their way to make flowey cozy in his self exile? they love you, kid, and that’s traditional love, not the murdery kind. they’d do anything to keep you around and happy. so don’t think about it like me weaponizing frisk. it’s more like making sure chara can’t use your dependence on their Soul like a shield.”

            I didn’t know how to respond. Any assurances I could’ve given would’ve gone in one nonexistent ear and out the other. He wanted results, not hollow promises. We both knew I had a horrible history with honesty and an even worse one when it came to me choosing to trust Chara. I could only smirk bitterly, getting played into a corner like a newbie.

            “Welp, looks like I lose our little game again.” He laughed a bit more genuinely.

            “honestly, it’s too easy when the folks around you’re only paying attention to my violent side. not that i’m complaining.” True enough. In the Underground, he was the harmless joker, not worth sweating over. Here, he was strength incarnate, firmly directing everyone’s attention to the blaster in his pocket. In the meantime, no one payed attention to the ace in his sleeve and the calculating mind in his skull. Either way, he wasn’t someone you wanted to make an enemy out of.

            _‘Not that it really matters. Your past is buried in the Underground, right, Chara?’_

_‘…Right, right.’_ The doubt in their tone was all too obvious, but I knew there wasn’t anything I could do. The wound was too fresh for me to work with. They would be too defensive, insisting they were fine and burying themselves deeper in denial. I had to bide my time, wait for their guard to drop so I could play my part.

            In the meantime, I figured I should get back to the superficial point of the outing. I picked up my burger, taking a hearty bite out of the side. The patty was juicy, and some of it was still sizzling. Some of it burned at the touch, but the rest was too good for me to put it down. I wasn’t one to give up so soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I've been dreaming about this scene since I settled on reviving goat bro proper. It has most of my favorite things to write. Sans being a sneaky, cheeky little bonehead, Chara being angry, and thinly veiled allegories. All it needs now is something blowing up, preferably from someone's face going through it. Where did I put that fish's number...?
> 
> Oh, and I have a little question for you lot. Do you know any good original fiction sites? I love me some fan fiction, but I've been toying with some fresh ideas that I want to write sooner or later and this place doesn't support that kind of thing. This place also doesn't support author blogs, where questions like this are better presented, but I should really keep my silly personal grievances categorized.


	3. Drowning in Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does one do when their efforts are rendered useless?

            “Gyah!” I ground my fangs together, weathering the shower of dark blue magic spear fragments. I waited until after the burning specks passed before I screamed out in rage, eyeing the undamaged boulder sticking out of the middle of the river with enough force to outdo a volcano. “What the Hell!? Why can’t I get it right!?”

            I kneeled down, fishing around in the dark for my discarded eyepatch. I managed to find it by the strap, dragging it up and wrapping it around my left eye in one motion. As the eye socket was sealed off, I felt my body’s magic level balance out, dropping back to what I used to call normal.

            I lifted my hand, channeling magic through it, and a shaft of pure magic formed. Its end spread open into a spearhead, and the magic solidified, only its very surface still flowing as fluid energy. It was stable, sturdy, and wouldn’t detonate on me, just like I expected.

            I swung it around, satisfied that it was grade A Undyne, before tearing my patch back off, letting it float to the ground. Instantly, a pulse shot through my arm, the flow of magic seemingly doubling its weight. My clenched hand shook violently, and my palm felt like its skin was being ripped apart to let magic through.

            The spear soaked it up like a sponge, and its deep blue shifted to a brighter hue. The gentle, steady ripples that ran down its length grew larger, less orderly, and, as hard as it was to tell, I thought it was shaking out of rhythm with the rest of me. My hand sank deeper into it, a sign that the central, solid mass I built it around had lost its cohesiveness. I was able to throw it up into the air and duck behind my arms before the magic fell apart, spraying me with shards of my own weapon. I stood there trembling, the gentle sound of flowing water doing nothing to quell the red hot anger building up in my throat.

            “God DAMNIT!” I hurled a fist wildly to the side, burying myself halfway up my forearm in solid oak wood. I tore it out through one of the still intact sides, ripping away a big enough chunk of its base to bring the rest tumbling down into the river. Its leaves splayed out across the water, and I likewise fell over, sprawling across the ground as I caught my breath. Begrudgingly, I admitted to myself that screaming and throwing a hissy fit wouldn’t fix anything, no matter how much better random acts of destruction made me feel. I waited for my heart to settle down, letting the embers of contempt die down before I got back to the matter at hand.

            “I mastered this technique _years_ ago, the Dreemurrs’ special armament spell, and it hasn’t failed me once since. Why’s it acting up now?” I rubbed at my eyes, the realization that I had been training my ass off since sundown finally setting in. The moon was directly overhead, and, glancing at my watch, I saw it was nearing midnight. “Oh man, Alphys is probably worrying herself sick…”

            “nah, she’s sound asleep. long day of science and stuff.” I jumped to my feet, years of training pushing me into a defensive stance, before I recognized the low key, sluggish voice.

            “Damnit, Sans, how many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on a knight, especially when she’s all warmed up?” He shrugged, sitting on the stump that used to be a tree.

            “i dunno. kind of hard to keep track after the first hundred or so.” I groaned, both appreciating and hating his honesty at the same time.

            “You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days…” My heart stopped, realizing what just came out of my lips. “Oh God, I didn’t mean it like…!”

            “whoa, calm down there. it’ll take a lot more than one fishy comment to offend.” My worry dropped directly into deadpan. There was a reason I didn’t talk directly to Sans that often, and that was it. “heck, we’ve both done it. if anything, you just insulted yourself there.” I scowled at him, not saying a word. “alright, alright, _eye_ get it.”

            I nodded with a huff, glad the message got through, before I noticed the weird inflection there. He usually just did that when he was making a pun. Why did he put emphasis on…?

            “Crap!” I scurried about, quickly hunting down and slapping the eyepatch over the socket, not even bothering to tie it. “I mean, uh, darn it, you saw my Halloween costume early! Yeah, I thought putting a lightbulb in there would look cool, since, you know, not really using it for…” His blank, hollowly mellow expression didn’t budge. “…Way too late for that, huh?”

            “got it in one.” I sighed, letting the patch fall away. In the corner of my sight, I saw my reflection in the river, something that was impossible on my left side before. The skin around the socket was the same as ever, rough as leather and dyed an irritated red, and there still wasn’t a physical eyeball to match. Once, it was just an empty hole in the side of my head that I hid to keep from spooking others away. Not to mention eyepatches were awesome.

            Instead, usually hidden under black cloth, a thin, white light shined. From a distance, it looked like someone had jammed a glowing crystal in my face. But the first time I tried actually touching it, my hand phased through, as though it wasn’t there at all. But if it wasn’t, how come I could see it from the eye I thought would forever be blind?

            “that’s quite the shiner you’ve got there.”

            “Oh hah, hah. Real clever.” It’s like he fed on seething rage or something. Was that why he was so tough?

            “most folks’d see a doctor about that. should i ring one up?” My heart leaped into my throat.

            “You tell Alphys and I swear I’ll spread your bones to the far corners of the universe!” The air between us lit up like a stick of dynamite, the impact throwing me to the ground and knocking the wind out of me. My right eye burned from the unexpected flash, everything going white, but my left still worked alright. In black and white, weirdly enough, but it worked. The concussive blast ebbed out, and Sans stood over me, right hand outstretched.

            “pro tip, letting your emotions out when you’re ‘warmed up’ is a bad idea, at least at first. DT is a lot more reactive than magic to changes in temperament.” My ears perked, suddenly very interested in what he had to say.

            “Wait, do you know what’s up with me?” I grabbed his hand, using him as a crutch to pull myself up. Looking at him face to face, I noticed how much more… menacing he was when you drained the color from his clothes, probably because of the distinct lack of bright pink slippers. Good thing my right eye was already coming around, bringing the environment back from monochrome one pixel at a time.

            “not one hundred percent, but i’ve got some idea. it’s hard to forget an eye like that.” He closed his sockets, something I stopped questioning a long time ago. He took a deep breath, again, not questioning, before the left slid opened slowly.

            Inside, his white, skeletal dot thing was replaced a bright blue ring, and my skin crawled. I’d heard and seen a lot of things about it. Alphys told me it was a result of Sans tapping into his Determination, enforcing a physical change in his body as it took more and more precedence over his relatively small supply of monster magic. All I really needed to know, though, was that when the eye came out, people he didn’t like were as good as gone, his offensive strength skyrocketing and his speed getting supplemented by teleportation. It was a method no other monster could possibly mimic, no matter how hard I tried.

            “it’s the mark of someone who’s broken the binds of the world. someone that, at least once, took the rules of existence itself and played jump rope with them.” He eased his eye shut again, and an unexplainable tension lifted. “it’s the mark of the Determined.” His eyes opened up, both back to their usual, white state. “welcome to the club, undying.” I couldn’t exactly respond to that. I mean, it was an awesome title, but I couldn’t forget where it came from in the first place.

            “Okay, cut to the chase. What are you doing here, besides messing with my head?” He was a good friend to have, and I got along with him just fine most of the time, but his constant cryptic bull and double sided talking was infuriating. I missed the days when he was just the neighborhood joker, not a trans dimensional headache in the making.

            “truth be told, i wanted to get around to you a lot sooner than this, but something else came up that i had to look into.” I rolled my hand at him, expecting some more details if it was so important. “that something may or may not be a problem in the future, depending. i’ll keep you updated if something big happens, but the pot isn’t boiling yet. leave the sweatin’ to me for a bit.” I was doing more than sweating, holding myself back from knocking his block off for that bait and switch garbage. There was a weird itch in the back of my head, telling me something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.

            “Alright, good to know, but you didn’t answer my question, numbskull. You just made more!”

            “right, sorry. haven’t gotten a lot of sleep the last few days, so, you know, feelin’ a little loose toothed.” He rubbed the back of his neck, staring off into the river. “i actually saw your magic field was acting up a while back. didn’t know why, and, frankly, i still don’t know. i just know you’re a lot more Determined than you were a few months back, and that’s sayin’ a lot. i figured i’d keep an eye on ya’ for a while, make sure you’re still stable. imagine my surprise when I came out here today and saw you halfway into going all super salmon. speaking of…” His left hand snapped out, grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me closer.

            “What are you…!?” My mouth snapped shut, his left eye going off again. The concentrated light lost its cohesiveness, spreading out into an azure flame that filled the entire socket. His fingers hummed with energy, vibrating against my skin. For a second, I thought I felt something poking down between my scales, but the feeling came and went too quickly to be sure.

            “mmhm, that’s about as weird as i thought it’d be.” His grip loosened, letting me take my arm back, but his eye was still going, so I didn’t butt in. “your molecular structure is still holding together as well as any other monster. considering a full fledged undying mode tends to make you a bit runny, i’d say you found yourself a pretty good deal, whatever you did.” He snorted, though the emotion behind it was hard to pin. “and here i thought our pros and cons were even.” My head tilted.

            “Was that a compliment, or…?” He looked like he was about to shake his head, but stopped.

            “well, i guess it is, but it’s not the point. see, DT’s always been a funny thing. when you start messin’ with it, it gives you one thing, but takes another. az got his life back, but lost his empathy. alt timeline you got a boost in just about every aspect, but you also got a time limit before your body fell apart. i got a hand in the laws of spacetime.” He reached his hand out towards the river, streams of blue magic trickling out through the cracks in his fingers. The boulder that taunted me was wrapped in his aura and torn from its post without any resistance. It hovered up twenty feet in the air before its glow started to dim.

            “but it sucks up energy like nothing else.” The blue magic popped at once, like a bubble, and the boulder dropped back into the riverbed, sending up a jet of water. He turned to me and shrugged. “and you can forget about me taking a hit. you, on the other hand…” He snapped his fingers, and the nerves in my forehead went off. I slapped a hand against the problem spot, bringing it down to find a tiny, gray pebble. My eyes were drawn to the bottom edge of my vision, the green bar down there jittering for a moment. On the very right, a sliver of it had turned red, barely big enough to see.

            “you can still take the pain with the best of ‘em, and you could be goin’ for days on full blast. you know, assuming you can stop exploding.” Between the veiled possibly insults and little chunk of rock just flicked at me, I was at wit’s end.

            “And what, exactly, is stopping me from grabbing you and pinning you down _while_ I explode?” It wouldn’t kill him, but man would it feel good, and I’d only do it the one time. Maybe.

            “first of all, you know i can warp.” I knew I was forgetting something. His lack of staying still would make it kind of hard. “second, you put me in a hospital and i won’t be able to teach you how to put a lid on that. but, if you insist…” I grabbed him by the jacket, dragging him up to eye level.

            “WHY DIDN’T YOU START WITH THAT!? HEY, UNDYNE, I CAN KEEP YOU FROM KILLING YOURSELF, BUT LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT MY DAY FIRST!!!” My eye was bulging out, my teeth were all bared, and my lungs were sore from being wrung out for every bit of air they had, but Sans wasn’t too fussed about it.

            “feel better?” I breathed in and out before nodding, dropping him. “well, you just answered for me. there were a few things i wanted to get across before you got all hyper focused. that’s your thing.”

            “Okay, point taken, I fly off the leash too…” My scales chittered as the skin under them quaked, a horrible pressure crawling up my back. His eyes were closed again, and I was almost certain he was sliding backwards, but the shift was too gradual to tell if it was him moving or the world under his feet.

            “now that that’s done, though, i think you know how this has to go. step one, gauge the student’s potential. so…” The warping stopped, twenty feet of dirt standing between us. I dropped to the ground, hastily tying my eyepatch back on. If I was imagining things right, I couldn’t afford any slip ups. It was too late for that, though, the knot I ended up making way too loose, but I was already out of time. His sockets opened, the space beyond them darker than the deepest pit of Waterfall.

            “ **You wanna have a bad time**?” He blinked, his left eye opening again with the white dot back. “cause, buddy, if you take another step forward, you’re really not gonna like what happens next.” In that moment, he froze, not moving an inch. He didn’t rise and fall with his breathing, he didn’t tap his feet, he didn’t even blink. He just stood there, waiting for my response.

            In that moment, I realized I was shaking. My breath was unsteady, my stance uneven. Any other opponent would have swept me off my feet in the blink of an eye, but Sans just stood there. He wouldn’t be a threat until I made my choice, but still I shook. Still I gave into my fear.

            Still I acted like a coward.

            I clenched my fists, forcing my body to stop quivering. I laughed a little, the tension of pure frustration showing its true colors. I had a choice to make. Would I back away, admit inferiority, and leave it at that? Or would I step forward, attempt to stand against the greatest force in monster kind, and face certain doom with a smile on my face? In that moment of clarity, the choice seemed clear. I straightened myself out, standing up like a respectable warrior, and took a resolute step forward, edging that shoulder his way in defiance. His smile widened.

            “well.” His eyes closed again, and the air doubled in weight. “don’t say i didn’t give you a chance.” I smirked, cocking my head to the side.

            “A real fighter makes her own chances.” I opened my right hand, materializing a spear. He chuckled, left hand slowly freeing itself of his pocket.

            “alright, but you should know…” His hand rose, and a blue light looked like it was about to break free from every opening. “i won’t be holding back.” His eyes opened, and my resolve was tested before his first attack. In an instant, a stream of flames burst forth, wrapping back around the top of his head from his left socket. His jacket rippled in an unseen gale, tongues of the blaze rising from its neck. A steady flow of wispy, cerulean smoke flowed from the mouths of his pant legs. It was like Hell had opened just beneath the surface, his body little more than a shell for its demons to command.

            But it was too late to back down. I _refused_.

            He thrust his palm forward, and the ground was torn apart by a sea of bones breaking through the Earth. Countless hundred footlong bars of magic and calcium came barreling towards me, and I knew even a single scrape would be enough to cripple me. I never dug too deep into Frisk’s memories of their fight, but I knew each and every attack he had stuffed up his sleeves was brimming with some sort of magic toxin. Agility would be my greatest asset.

            I dashed forward, gripping my spear with both hands. As I neared the growing wall of bones, I slammed the base of the shaft into the ground, letting the core loosen just enough to give it some bend. I put a solid chunk of strength behind it, letting the force of impact redirect my course to the sky. I flipped midair, slowing myself just in time to slip past the very top of the wave, one bone dangerously close to scraping at my right eye. The brunt of the wave was behind me, and I twisted myself so I was straight up, my spear gripped to stab down where Sans was standing…

            …but he wasn’t there anymore. My spearhead was met with little more than air. I had made my jump and planned my landing around him being there to absorb most of my kinetic energy, but the lack of a sponge left me out to dry. I tucked into an emergency roll, getting through two rotations before I managed to stop. I was still near the ground, one knee grazing the grass, when a deep, resonant voice rang in my ear.

            “ **What, you thought I’d just stand there and take it?** ” I could barely recognize it as Sans, but the blue flames I caught in the corner of my eye left no other possibility. It was like someone chewed on the AV cables, leaving the TV to spew out words in the dialect of static.

            I spun around, swinging at him with the blunt end of my spear, but his body fizzed out just before impact, recompiling a hair above my swing. He was even faster than I imagined, operating under the sort of twitch reflexes that even Asgore could only dream of. He brought his hand up, right between his eyes, and snapped his fingers.

            He vanished again, and in his place was the twisted, jagged maw of a blaster. Its eyes shook in their sockets, and it almost seemed like it was laughing as the condensed ball of energy at the back of its throat reached full power. I didn’t have time to react, a second snap unleashing the beast.

            Its jaw opened wide, and my world was drowned in blue. I tried using my spear as a shield, but it was swiftly torn to shreds, leaving me to bear the full force of Sans’s greatest weapon. Every atom of my body, every grain of dust and particle of magic that was me, felt like they were being pulled apart. All I could register was the blinding blue that filled my vision, the smell of smoke, and the indescribable pain.

            “ **Is that all you’re capable of?** ” I tried to find the voice, turning my head, but the forces tearing at me doubled. Tripled. Quadrupled. It felt like the blasts were coming from every direction. My legs gave out, dropping me to my knees, and I could feel my clothes losing cohesion. The tie in my hair was reduced to dust, freeing my ponytail to be whipped around by the hellish wind. The strap on my eyepatch was next, the rest blown away as it fell from my eye.

            “ **What happened to your fighting spirit?** ” At the edge of my vision, my health bar was depleting, faster and faster. The red nothing devoured the green, and I could feel more and more of my body giving out as my HP depleted.

            “ **Where’s the ambition you so thrive on?** ” Lower. Lower still. My vision faded, the cerulean blue dropping to navy, then darker yet. It wasn’t long before all I saw was darkness. The feeling left my limbs, my flesh floating away in a cloud of dust.

            My mind broke free of my body, leaving me falling through a pit of memories. Cooking with Papyrus, his first batch of spaghetti going up in smoke. Training with Frisk, narrowly avoiding a still unstable burst of lightning. Sitting around watching anime with Alphys, the warmth of her curled up against my chest filling an unknown pit in my Soul…

            “ **Where’s the one worthy of the title Undying?** ”

            …No, I couldn’t die, not like this! My eyes shot opened, and my vision cleared. Beyond the blue, past the bonds of this warped space, I saw a faint outline looking down from above. It stared at me, left hand outstretched, the bright blue ring in its eye circling me. My magic field expanded, sweeping over the fragments that were ripped away from me. My dust was drawn in, my body solidifying once more, muscles already primed for action. I reared back, all of my power flooding to my lungs.

            “I’M NOT DONE YET!!!” The world around me shook, the blasters’ balance getting thrown off. The beams shifted, releasing me from the grip of their indomitable force, and I took my shot. I spun in place, summoning a ring of spears in the air. I thrust a fist up, sending them screaming through the sky. They didn’t stand a ghost of a chance, their metal hides rendered little more than scrap in my wake.

            My eyes locked on the puppet master, Sans hovering overhead, coated by blue magic. His sockets were opened wide, the blue ring beneath the flames shrinking. I bent my knees, pushing my legs as far as they could go and launching myself skyward. I pulled my right arm back, hand aching as I forced my dust to tighten.

            He threw his hand forward, compiling another blaster in defense, but we both knew he didn’t have enough time to fire. I put everything I had behind my strike, a single punch crashing through its magi steel plating and guts. I flipped around midair, knowing full well he wouldn’t be on the other side.

            Sure enough, he had blinked directly behind me. I reached into space for a new spear, but a cold, strong force gripped at my Soul. He flicked his wrist down, and my personal gravity went up a hundredfold. One moment, we were staring each other in the eye, floating at least fifty feet in the air. The next, I was splashing down back first into the river. I hit the riverbed with the force of a cannonball, and the breath was ripped out of me into a stream of bubbles.

            Struggling against enflamed lungs and a racing heart, I dug my claws deep into the rock. One after another, one hand in front of the other, I dragged my way to the surface. The first intake of air was a blessing if I’d ever known one, and each one after highlighted just the sort of shape I was in. My nerves slowly stirred awake, and the earth shattering pain enveloped me. My muscles locked up, my upper half collapsing on the shore. My ears perked, softened footsteps making their way across the grass.

            “well, color me impressed. here i thought i’d have to follow through with the frisk contingency.” Frisk what…? Oh, having the kid rewind, relieving him of responsibility if I wound up dead. The sneaky bastard.

            “Impressed, nothing.” Each word punctuated the throbbing in my airway, but, next to the rest of my body, it was a drop in the ocean. “You were toying with me the whole time. Played right into your hands…” A rigid, white hand wrapped around mine, pulling at my arm.

            “well, considering my first square off with chara began and ended with the first blaster, and you just survived five of them, yeah. impressive is the exact right word.” Huh, how about that. I was better than the time hopping demon. Somehow, that actually was kind of comforting. “and i think i figured out how to get your DT running smoother. it’ll take some time, but…”

            “Hey, at least I’ll know where I’m going instead of…” He pulled me up, and my arm came into view. My heart nearly stopped, my hand completely severed from me at the wrist. Actually, every joint there was nonexistent, just empty space between masses of hand and finger chunks. The edges were sharp, my usually smooth, but pointed claws now looking like shards of glass, melded together with the rest of the tips of my fingers. I trailed down my arm, the scales seeming to float on my skin like leaves on water, slowly drifting around. “What the…?”

            I pulled myself out of the water, turning back to look at my reflection. All of my scales, barring the ones on my face, were doing the same thing, their position on my body changing with every passing second. My hair, hanging over my shoulders like a curtain, glowed like embers, and my ear fins were burning sails stretched over a wire frame.

            The most striking change, though, was my eyes. The left looked about the same, but the right’s coloration had changed, a white, slit pupil in the middle of a black orb. Looking in my eyes, recognition sparked. I turned my hands around, and on their backs two, white hearts shined out like luminescent tattoos. In the wide gash in my shirt, I could see a third, plastered across my torso. My heart rate increased, knowing full well what it meant.

            “Sans, get Frisk and make them Reload! I won’t have long until…!” He put a hand on my back, carefully holding me down.

            “chill, ‘dyne. you’re not gonna melt.” That was easy for him to say. He didn’t have dreams quite like mine, memories of a past me that failed to stop Chara. If I looked like this, it was only a matter of time.

            “You said it yourself, a full Undying is powerful, but dies out quickly. What about this is any different from…!?” His hand buzzed against my back, and I could feel my internal flow of magic calming. It was like excess energy was being syphoned off, and, looking back, a dark blue fog was lifting from where we touched. My hands twisted and contorted, my fingers snapping back together with the rest of me. My scales settled into place, my nails smoothed out, and the white hearts on my hands faded away. The Undyne looking back from the river was back to normal, if incredibly worn looking. And not just because of the torn, mangled shirt.

            “the difference is in which undyne was doing it. the you back in the underground wasn’t prepared for the DT shift. the you here is.” I could only stare at my reflection, question upon question filling my head.

            “What’s so different about me from then to now?” He shrugged his shoulders, plopping down on the ground next to me.

            “beats me. i guess i wasn’t watching when you did whatever you did.” He closed his eyes, falling back into a full on resting position. “you remember messing around with anything that screwed with the natural order recently? that’s what usually does it.” I scratched my head, trying my hardest to remember something, but nothing was coming to…

            “The Frisks!” That was right! I _did_ mess with something like that. Lots of somethings. “Back when you toasted the Charas in Hotland, I told Papyrus I wanted to hang back and rest for a minute, remember?” He nodded slowly, probably because he was still sifting through the countless Charas he was blasting through on his way down.

            “After you guys left, the Frisks they were using for their Determination came back out of the lava, and I gave them a lift back to the action. See, they molded together into a heart shaped pendant, and I carried that with me until our Frisk sent them all back. Do you think they, like, rubbed something off on me?”

            “hmm, could be. i mean, maybe.” He scratched his head with one finger. “kind of hard to say, seeing how this is an isolated case. we’d need to repeat the conditions to be sure, and that’s hard to do since, one, we’ve only got one frisk now and, two, i don’t think anyone else’d be eager to run any more DT experiments.” I flopped to my back, too, my body screaming at me to take it easy for a minute. I listened to it every now and then, especially since the scraps of clothing I had left didn’t look like they could take much more. I didn’t need a public indecency charge. “you sure we can’t get alph in on this? she knows what we’re dealing with better than anybody.”

            “Look, I get that, but I don’t want to put her through something like this again. She connects my Undying form to when she couldn’t help me fight. She sees me like that, she’ll think of that fight, and then she’ll think about that me’s death. That would lead her to the Amalgamates, then to Flowey, and down and down until she’s circling in her failures. She’s already off from seeing Asriel walking around. I don’t want to push her further with another bombshell.” She was getting better, really she was, and she was trying so hard to keep her head above water, but…

            “depression not based in chemical imbalances is a stubborn opponent, and i’d be one to know.” I nodded, glad I didn’t have to spell it all out, when it hit me. I finally realized what was wrong with this picture.

            “Sans, aren’t you, by your own admission, the laziest monster around?”

            “yep.” His eye was on me, and I had the feeling he knew what was coming.

            “So, why exactly are you _volunteering_ to be my mentor?” Being a personal trainer was harder than it looked, no matter what level you’re working on, and Sans wasn’t the type to underestimate a challenge.

            “huh, thought it’d take ya a bit longer to catch on. guess you’re pickin’ up a bit of alph’s smarts, eh?” I didn’t answer, and I don’t think he expected me to. His eyes went back to the sky. “man, you see all those stars up there? i remember back in the underground, everyone wanted to see them so bad.” Even if I was cracking down for answers, I had to smile at that. Whenever I did my Waterfall patrol, there were always a few monsters looking at our crystal recreation of the sky, and more than a few of the echo flowers repeated their desires for days on end. Seeing so many dreams come true, knowing I had at least a small hand in making it happen, was one of the reasons I joined the Guard in the first place.

            “these days, most monsters are startin’ to get used to them bein’ there. like they’re just a given. me, though, i don’t think i’ll ever really get used to this view. constellations. planets. shooting stars. the grand, sweeping view of bright lights shining on in the pitch black sea of space. it’s always changing. every night brings something new, and i’m actually excited to see what comes next.” He chuckled quietly, eye lights dimming like they were getting glazed over.

            “kind of ironic that, way back when, i was one of the few who couldn’t care less about the idea. whenever we got close, it just sort of… slipped away, so i stopped putting stock in that plan.” For a second, I wanted to reach over and pat him on the back, but he wasn’t one for taking pity. The fact he was letting me this deep into his thoughts was surprising on its own.

            “so you can imagine when a human came out of nowhere and started mowing monsters down en masse, it almost felt like my school of thought was being justified. that hopelessness just doubled down, and i could barely drag myself from place to place. just another day for one of the lost.” As he spoke, his eye lights fizzed away, leaving the emptiness hiding at his very core. If the contents of my pockets hadn’t been blown to kingdom come, I would’ve phoned Papyrus to get him some emotional support.

            “when it got to me, it was hard to stand and put up a fight. no matter how well things seemed to be going, i knew it was only a matter of time before i got dusted. knowing how hopeless it really was, i could only manage a half hearted fulfillment of duty. i owed it to my home. to my brother. to the friends lost in the storm and one pal in particular trapped at the heart of it all. i fought then because i couldn’t afford not to care anymore.” Slowly, his head turned, eyes still blanked out. Somehow, being stared at like that was a million times worse than when his skull was on fire.

            “now, i don’t want to not care ever again, and havin’ more people around that can hold their ground’ll make sure that me gets left behind.” His eyes popped back into existence, and he stared back up at the stars. “you know what i mean?”

            I followed his gaze, staring up at that starlit sky. So many bright lights. So much potential. So much hope. I didn’t want it to slip away, either.

            “Guess that’s all the more reason for me to get this right then. I don’t want to be lagging behind a lazybones forever, do I?” I gave him a good hearted jab to the shoulder, wincing at my still sore arm. I almost felt bad for the guys he actually had it out for. For once, I had the feeling the smile he gave me was the genuine article. Then he got that weird twinkle in his eyes.

            “between the two of us, baddies of any _scale_ are really _boned_.” I rolled my eyes, scolding myself for not seeing it coming. “yeah, that was a little _fishy_. and _barebones_.”

            This was, officially, the most trying training of my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sudden surge of readers with this entry is incredibly heartening. Looking all the way back to Broken Clock, it's raked in another fifty views since I got the engine going again. Here I thought seeing that "Part 8" marker would drive new readers away, like trying to penetrate Kingdom Hearts' plot. Unless people skipped the other seven and jumped right on down to the end. Yeah, I know you're there! The numbers don't lie!
> 
> (You're still welcome here, though. Just saying, it's a little funny.)


	4. The Burdened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with all the power in the world, safety is an illusion.

            “Alright, Darling, we’ll be in Ebott within the week, and don’t you worry your precious little head about the details. I’ll have a homecoming show prepared that will blow you away! Toodles~!” The phone disconnected with a beep, and you smiled. It had been a while since you’d heard from Mettaton, so you were glad to have a chance to catch up. He couldn’t help being so busy with his career, but at least it brought him back every now and then.

            “So, what’s the plan? When’ll he show up?” Lansot leaned over the lunch table, pinching his milk’s drinking straw between his teeth. It took him a few weeks of spilling it all over his sweater to accept that grabbing the whole carton with his mouth and throwing it back was probably a bad idea.

            “Says he’s coming back soon. A week, tops.” The sparkle in his eyes was contagiously enthusiastic. You could hear his claws ticking against his chair and the table as he energetically swung his legs. His straw was warping between his firmly clenched teeth, likely the only cork that kept him from erupting in joy in the middle of the cafeteria.

            Not that his was a lone case. These days, it was hard to go fifty feet without running into someone that at least enjoyed your favorite robot’s work, and that distance dwindled as the concentration of monsters increased. Even if his EX form looked more like a human, everyone knew he was a shining bullet point on monster kind’s resume. If anything, his humanoid body helped bridge the gap more, creating an idol figure human enough for the uncertain to connect to easily with the knowledge that he was a good that came from Ebott’s unique population. Almost everyone in the school, regardless of species, was excited by the prospect of having a live concert on its way. Him strutting his stuff made your job as ambassador a little easier.

            “Frisk singing too, right?” Even sitting, Brutus’s hulking size gave him a dangerous air. It didn’t have much effect on you, though, being close neighbors with people who were literally on fire, so you could see the undertones of positive reinforcement in his gruffly spoken question. You gave him a smile and nodded.

            “Yeah, you guys should see them and Shyren perform.” Asriel was in the first seat on your immediate left, close at hand if you needed help. Considering you couldn’t move your arms more than a foot or so from your armrests or bend them inwards to a viable degree, it was deeply appreciated. “They get some surprising depth out of humming together.”

            Speaking of, you thought you heard a faint grumbling on your right. A book was standing open, and all you could see of its owner was a black knit cap and a few strands of purple hair. He was twitching, quickly turning his head back and forth over a small area, and he scratched under his cap every minute or so. You strained your neck to lean back, catching a glimpse of a blue sheet of paper on the table in front of him.

            “Pierce?” He deflated at the sound of his name, small, beady eyes poking over his book. He seemed either tired, annoyed, or some combination of the two. “You okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m cool.” The bags under his eyes said otherwise. He started to sweat under your scrutiny. “Hey, lay off, would ya? I don’t pry into your business, so could you leave me to…?” He reached around the book, going for the tray just in front of it, when his forearm got a bit too close. It caught on the folds of his hoodie’s sleeve, tumbling over and revealing the blueprints he had been studying so closely. The prideful smirk printed there in white took only a moment to recognize.

            “Yo, why are you looking at Mettaton’s plans like that?” Brutus was just as lost as Lansot, but you had some vague idea of what was going on. Pierce let out a sigh, a disappointed scowl casting over the designs.

            “I’m trying to figure out how the Hell this guy actually works. I mean…” He carefully ran his finger over key points on the blueprint. “There isn’t anything hooked up to the eyes that would let them move so realistically, no robotics operating system should support such smooth transitions between limb movements, nothing this complex should be able to function on something as basic as a prettied up car battery, and I don’t see any sort of motherboard or central computer anywhere. It doesn’t make sense!” He threw himself back in his chair, shoulders rolling and dangling over the back. “Are you sure it’s not just a guy in a suit, and all this is excusatory fluff?” Honestly, you didn’t know machines nearly well enough to see things like that so quickly, but you knew Souls decently well.

            “See the problem. Your copy’s missing the most important part.” You nodded to Asriel, and he got what you were hinting at pretty quickly. He pulled a pencil out of his pocket, reaching over and sketching a small heart in the center of his chest piece. Pierce’s head tilted, digesting the new information.

            “That’s… a Soul, right?” You nodded. You had thought the idea of the physical Soul, such a widely contested concept, would have been rejected by most, but the people you interacted with from day to day seemed cool enough about the revelation. Then again, the list of people who actually knew about it was restricted to exactly the people you felt comfortable telling, but one hundred percent acceptance was still kind of outlandish. Everyone knew that number would drop towards rock bottom among the general public, though, so to the darkness it went, along with the great Soul Hunt.

            “Magic from his Soul lets him work those things easier, like an actual body. The battery’s just there so he doesn’t burn out his Soul. Bad idea.” You could see the gears in his head turning, putting the puzzle together piece by piece.

            “Oh, that… actually explains a lot. Replacing a central computer with an actual mind cuts out a big power drain, and its instinctual knowledge about limb and eye use would be…” He stopped, a byproduct of my answer hitting him.

            “Wait, you’re saying Mettaton’s not a monster made robot, just a monster?” You rocked your head back and forth, the closest you could reasonably do to a ‘so so’ hand movement.

            “The body is robotic, but controlled by a living thing’s Soul. So… cyborg, I guess.” He flopped in his seat again, but this time out of mental overload. His gaze was vacant, his conscious mind wandering. “Didn’t know you liked engineering.” You knew he had a thing for tampering with codes, but this was new.

            “Call it a hobby of a hobby. If you fiddle with something’s guts long enough, you start getting curious about the body they’re stuck in.” A gruesome metaphor, but it sounded about right. Come to think of it, you thought it sounded familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You were curious about this new facet of Pierce’s, but the bell chose then to ring, signaling a return to class. Oh well, you could ask him later.

 

-

 

            You had the sudden, visceral fear that later wouldn’t be coming, and it all derived from the paper sitting in front of you. You were usually a good student. You passed your classes with flying colors across the board, memorizing every little scrap of information you needed to get by.

            But math was a different beast. Most subjects were simply remembering key details. Math demanded both memory and application with a plethora of formulas. On a normal day, you would have done alright, but the constant aching in your everything made it difficult to focus. You would go to write in a hard earned answer, get hit by a crippling pulse of pain, and the numbers would vanish from your mind.

            You were halfway through the test when you glanced up at the clock. Only ten minutes left. Unless your body decided to cooperate in short order, it wouldn’t be nearly enough. You scrunched your eyebrows, cursing the clock’s steady march forward. Time was against you, moving on despite the woes of mortals…

            …but you weren’t the normal type of mortal. Not everyone had a say in time and space, and fewer still could claim full dominion over either. Time would reverse if you so chose, and you could take your answers back with you. If memory served, your last Save was that morning, soon after Sans gave you the go ahead. You would have to relive the entire day, but that seemed a fair price. All it would take was a single thought…

            You closed your eyes, letting out a muffled puff of air in lieu of a chuckle. It was nice to daydream every now and then, but you knew you didn’t have it in you. Time wasn’t something to abuse for something so small. Besides, you could never put the others through that sort of thing lightly. Especially not Asriel and Sans. Where others would have minor deja vu, those two would have a panic attack, thinking something horrible enough to warrant drastic measures had happened. And that was assuming it didn’t trigger a temporal relapse.

            No, you could handle your problems the old fashioned way. The right way. If push came to shove, you could always ask for an extension. The school would understand, and not just because of your position. You gritted your teeth and pushed on. A few numbers wouldn’t stop you so easily.

 

-

 

            “You know, I really wouldn’t have blamed you.” Asriel held the front doors open, making Greater Dog’s job easier. He still had to duck to fit through, but at least he didn’t have to contort himself to open the doors and push you through them at the same time. It was just the three of you in earshot, so you didn’t feel there was a problem with bringing up your test experience. Asriel grinned bitterly to himself. “In all honesty, some more study time actually sounds pretty good.” You raised an eyebrow, expecting him to know better than that.

            “Yeah, yeah, it’s not a toy, I get it. I was just goofing with you.” You would’ve tapped your foot if you could, but you felt you had the incredulous look down pat otherwise. “It was just a joke! Golly, and I thought Dad’s sense of humor was bad…” You snorted, abandoning your half hearted chastisement altogether. Asgore was pretty tone deaf when it came to jokes. Thank goodness you, Mom, and Sans could save Asriel from the same fate.

            _‘A tragic disability, that. What good is the world when you can’t have a laugh at it?’_ You sided with Gaster completely. You’d had more than enough serious in the last year or so to last you a lifetime. You were lucky to have such a light hearted, if slightly spooky and echoey, voice in the back of your head to take your mind off it. Well, technically he was strapped to the back of your neck, but technicalities were getting to be a bigger, heavier pile than you could manage. You didn’t even want to wonder about how many siblings you actually had. _‘The answer is somewhere between one and eight.’_

_‘Gee, way to_ mask _the question.’_

            _‘Yes, my answer was somewhat_ cracked, _wasn’t it?’_ You smiled, fully understanding and accepting that you had the exact opposite problem as Asgore. You could live with that.

            “Hey, I have to go.” You shook your head, bringing yourself back to Asriel. While you were spaced out, you had made it all the way to the spot where the road split off towards New Haven. You remembered he had an appointment out that way.

            “Good luck, Az. Something happens, just call.” He rolled his eyes, weathering the, roughly, hundredth time you told him that. It wasn’t so much for him as it was for a certain hot headed bruiser hiding in his head, but you could understand how tiring it got after a while.

            “Yes, _Mom_ , anything else?” You made a wide, sweeping movement of your head, clicking your tongue the whole time.

            “Hmm, nope. That’s it, I suppose.” You both giggled at the oddity of the exchange, the kid in a wheelchair lecturing the one that wasn’t. Then again, the odd was long established to be the expected under Ebott’s shadow. Maybe it was just how mundane the exchange was that got you. After countless hundred loops butting heads, it was nice having casual talks with him.

            “Welp, I’ll be back by dark. If I’m not, you know what to do.” You nodded back. First, alert Sans. Second, and this was important, don’t alert Undyne until it went dire. She’d turn New Haven upside-down in the blink of an eye.

            He waved, slowly disappearing into the distance as he walked the trail. Greater waited until he was gone to you the other way. It was about time to head home. It wasn’t a block later that you found yourself yawning heavily, your eyes drooping. It wasn’t a new occurrence, your energy reserves dropping sharply as your body demanded more to piece itself back together. You just needed to rest your Soul a little and you would be fine.

            _‘Tag out?’_ You nodded, letting your grip on your body fade. Gently, Gaster eased your Soul deeper into your body, taking your place as you let yourself drift to sleep, retreating into the golden streams that flowed unseen just beneath your skin.

 

-

 

            _The sound of rushing water filled your ears, and you couldn’t ignore the damp, mossy smell in the air. The ground beneath you was loose, swaying in the breeze. Your eyes opened, and you saw a bridge stretching out over a black chasm. The walls on either side were a dark blue, and waterfalls lined them like unstable columns._

_Of all the sights, none grabbed your attention like the woman facing you down from the other side of the bridge. She hovered a few inches in the air, the heart emblazoned on her chest plate glowing brightly. Her left eye sparked, discharging white energy every few seconds, sparking like a Tesla Sphere with no cover. The other was focused decidedly on you, unwavering, unafraid._

_“To think we trusted you. We cared about you, and you repaid us by stabbing us in the back.” Her line of sight faltered for a moment, and your thoughts echoed with a faint, boisterous laughter. “Literally.” Her shaking fists opened, a spear forming in each before her fingers clamped them in place. The burning glow of her hair intensified, a give that she was about to strike. “I’m uprooting the problem, here and now. DIE!”_

_She leaned forward, her magic propelling her over the distance between us like a jet. You instinctually threw yourself to the side, trying to sidestep her initial strike, but something kept your feet locked to the ground. All you accomplished was throwing yourself to the ground, a yellow petal falling down over your face._

_…Wait, yellow petal? That didn’t make sense. Chara’s possession twisted you severely, but it rarely ever took you out of a basically human form. In the daze, your line of sight dropped, and you found yourself looking at a green stem, the roots that extended from it wrapping around a plank of wood. So many thoughts should have been running through your mind. Confusion. Fear. Anger, perhaps. But you felt none of them._

_You felt nothing at all._

_Undyne loomed overhead, and, without a word, she drove both spears down. Both hit home, and Waterfall flashed out of existence around you._

-

 

_Your eyes opened again, and you found yourself in a field of yellow flowers. Shortly past the grass, the room faded away into an endless darkness. You didn’t even need the floating words, there on the edge between light and shadow, to know you were in the Save room._

_Your first thought was to move your limbs, and, this time, they responded. You brought your hands up, and, barring the paleness of your skin, you looked back to normal. At a second glance, though, you noticed that the sleeves were the wrong color. You were wearing a green sweater with yellow stripes, and dangling around your neck was a red, heart shaped locket._

_With quaking fingers, you brought it up before your eyes and flicked the unlock button on top. It opened, revealing a picture of the Dreemurrs. Between Mom and Asgore, two children stood. Asriel was grinning widely at the camera, holding a bouquet of flowers, though their color was hard to discern from the sepia tone shading._

_On his side was a human, and, even though their face was obscured by a similar bundle of plants, you could recognize the bare hint of bright, red eyes poking out from under their thick hairline anywhere. Your grip faltered, letting the locket drop, dangling at the end of its string._

_Your mind was racing, unable to put the pieces together. Usually, even if it was only a faint feeling, you could tell where and when you were in a given vision, but this was all wrong. These weren’t your memories, and it was all too clear to be just a dream. No, it was something else._

_“Beware, child of fate.” A new voice, thin, whispery, like the faint whistling of a breeze. You spun around, and, standing at the edge of the dark, a tall, dark figure stared down at you. It was swathed in a blue cloak, coming down like a curtain around its whole body. Its face was blocked by a smooth, white mask, devoid of openings for the eyes and mouth. Somehow, you felt the golden eye painted on the center of its head was all it needed to see you. Whatever it was, you couldn’t recognize it as either human or monster. You struggled to find your voice._

_“Who… who are…?”_

_“Beware, he grows impatient.” Deeper in the black, you thought you saw movement, but when you tried tracking it, it vanished. “He draws closer.” Another flicker of motion, and you whipped your head towards as quickly as you could. You thought you saw the faint flickering of black fabric, but it was hard to be certain._

_“He knows you are here, but where you stand is a secret to him. Ever he lurks in the Unformed Murk, seeking thee.” The more you tried and failed to trace the movement, the more your realized how random it was. Sometimes it was close, others far, back and forth between the two. If it was knowingly stalking you, it would either be coming closer or remaining constant, not backing away. You felt a combination of fear and rage swelling in your chest, and every moment you contained it was as though your bones were creaking under its pressure._

_“What are you talking about!? Who’s_ he!? _Who are you?” The robed figure said nothing for several seconds, as though frozen, but a turn of the head showed he was very much awake._

_“We haven’t time. Not here, not now. Your dreamscape can only bare my presence for so long, even with your heightened position. And there are more urgent matters at hand. You are not the only one who holds footing in this place, and he knows it.” A gap opened in the front of its robes, parting as its arm slid through the leather straps that kept it so firmly in place. Its hand, covered by a soft, white glove, pointed out into the darkness._

_You followed its gesture, eyes drawn to a new form out in the nothingness. It glowed too brightly to discern any individual features, but you were reasonably sure it was humanoid and about your height. Whatever it was made out of, it was awash in an array of colors. Orange, yellow, green, purple, blues of two shades._

_Suddenly, a blur of motion rushed past it, and it flicked its head trying to find it, just as you did. With every pass, it turned again, movements becoming more erratic. There was a difference in the blur’s motion now, though. This time, it was clearly growing closer. With every turn of its head, the hunted form’s exhaustion grew, muzzle parting in deep, heavy panting, and its long, floppy ears were pulling back in terrified stress…_

_It finally clicked._

_“Asriel!”_

_Forgetting about the cryptic robed figure, you ran with all you were worth, willfully surrendering your foothold on the field of flowers, willfully ignorant as its light dimmed behind you. Somehow, you weren’t the slightest bit perturbed as the command menu vanished. There was something far more important on your mind, and you followed its beacon through the murk._

_Asriel’s blurred head turned, but this time, it stopped, finding what it was looking for. He jumped back at first, but soon he settled, opening his arms widely. You reached out towards him, desperation driving you harder than any petty desires you once held. The gap between you closed, smaller, smaller, and when you were almost close enough to see his eyes under the haze of colors, his arms started to close, the start of a hug, one you were eager to return._

_“f0u^d y0u, 01d fr13^d.”_

_Your heart dropped, a voice like a hundred shattering bones thundering out from behind you. You turned, and, staring back, was a massive, hulking form wreathed in black flames. All you could make out were its blood red eyes and the thick, blade sharp claws that tipped its hands. Its arms came down on you, and the world shattered in the wake of an endless cold. As your perception of the Murk faded to an even thicker dark, you heard the whispery voice again._

_“They who defy fate, they who would alter the course of time. This event has yet to pass, but the appointed hour is near. If left as is, these ones’ futures will be rendered mute. Will you allow this tale to be written in stone?”_

-

 

            You came crashing back into consciousness, Gaster’s presence getting forcefully shoved from your body’s controls. When your Soul and nerves realigned, your heart rate stuttered into high gear. It hurt horribly, but you couldn’t care less.

            _‘Frisk, what’s the matter?’_ Your eyes quickly scanned the area, a park about ten minutes from the path to New Haven. Greater was sitting on a bench, tossing breadcrumbs to birds, but he was swift to his feet when he caught the deathly seriousness in your rigid posture.

            “We need to get to New Haven, now! Asriel’s in trouble!” Most would have questioned you. How did you know? What kind of danger? Greater, on the other hand, knew better than to waste time. He bound from his bench, sending the birds scattering as he grabbed your chair’s handles. With a thumbs up from you, he kicked his armor into high gear, rocketing you both down the street at speeds that would make mid tier race cars jealous.

            You fought against your cast, ignoring its cracking as you reached for your pocket. The binding around your hand shattered with a simple flex, letting you grab your cell phone unobstructed. You hit the seven key, letting speed dial do its work as you brought it up to your ear. Two rings later, the person on the other end picked up.

            “hey, kid, what’s up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving myself Creepypasta vibes with that Save Room scene. Seriously, evil thing creeping around in a pitch black void while a creepy robed dude narrates? Someone call the SCP Foundation.


	5. The Darkest Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malevolence lurks where you least expect it.

            I was feeling kind of iffy, even though I knew it was an unreasonable nervousness. I stood outside an unassuming, brick building, hand hovering over the pull bar on the door. I was running out of excuses to not just go in. There weren’t any birds to claim I was watching, and I’d already ‘admired’ the Doctor’s new sign for about ten minutes.

            _‘Dude, you know you need this.’_ I nodded, conceding to Chara’s point, but I still didn’t budge. _‘So why don’t you just go in?’_ I gulped loudly.

            _‘I guess it’s because… I don’t like being the one getting dissected. You know?’_ After countless timelines of being the watcher, countless timelines of being watched and summarily blown to bits by a certain skeleton, I’d grown to shy away from anyone trying to dig deeper into the workings of my brain. And that was Pauly’s job.

            _‘I get it. But I also get that you’re going to be all mopey until you get some actual help. So…’_ Before I could even think about bringing up the hypocrisy, Chara forced my hand forward, grabbing and throwing the door open. A little bell sounded, and I knew pretending like I wasn’t there wasn’t an option anymore. _‘There, first step’s done. You can take the second now.’_

_‘Gee, thanks.’_ I rolled my eyes, not that they cared about petty signs of displeasure. At least the office itself wasn’t menacing. Most places you’d call a clinic had that air of death around them. Pauly’s office, on the other hand, was just kind of plain. There was a front counter at the far side of the room, but there was never anyone behind it. From white wall to white wall, it was unnervingly empty. I made my way to the counter, tapping on the service bell. A harsh ding rang through the room.

            “Excuse me, sir? It’s me, Asriel.” I waited, but there weren’t any signs that I’d been heard. The office was as quiet as ever. I didn’t know why it was getting to me so much. Maybe it was because I usually had Frisk and Greater Dog with me, and those two could make anything short of Hell at least tolerable. Now, it was just me and the voices in my head.

            _‘Maybe he’s not here?’_ I looked back at the front door, and no, the sign was flipped with the ‘Open’ side out. He was here, somewhere. I just didn’t know where, or why he wasn’t answering.

            My first thought was our normal therapy room. The door was on the left side of the back wall, tightly shut. I pushed it open, but there was only more nothing on the other side. His actual working space was a lot more cozy, desk covered in random sticky notes, an empty mug, and one of those hula girl bobble heads, and each wall was adorned by a couple of paintings. Those weren’t of any interest to me at the moment, though. Their owner was, and he wasn’t there.

            I backed out into the main room, eyes going to the right wall. The only other direction to go was there, the staircase leading up. Come to think of it, I hadn’t been up there yet, and Frisk’s injuries made it certain they couldn’t. I had to wonder why he’d be up there when his business was all held down on the first floor, but it was the only lead I had.

            The steps led up into a hallway, the white of the first floor turning over to a light blue, a few shades brighter than Sans’s magic. There weren’t any doors on either side, though, just a straight shot forward that turned left twenty feet in. I turned that corner just to find more of the same, a straight, blue hall that bent again.

            _‘What kind of second story is this? I swear, the Ruins were more lively.’_ I had to admit, for a guy who usually looked like he was a logo away from being a walking Skittles commercial, his building was about as bland as it got. Another turn, and, big shock, just another hall, but at least this one ended in another set of stairs.

            I started to wonder about the layout of this place when the next floor up was more of the same. With halls that just went in squares, there was a huge space in the middle that wasn’t being used. It seemed like a waste, especially when the guys who built these places were trained to make the most of the room they had. It was like an amateur hour craft show on a hundredfold scale. That feeling only got stronger when I made it to the fourth floor, only to see that the lighting was almost nonexistent. There was a bulb just above the stairs and at the far corner, but that was it.

            _‘Woah, what the blazes is this place?’_ That distinct country drawl was a real comfort. Cowboys were supposed to have a level head, right? _‘Fella takes a little nap in Spring, wakes up on Halloween.’_

            “Actually, Cliff, this is Doctor Pauly’s office building.”

            _‘Wait, seriously?’_ I nodded, not quite believing it myself. _‘I’d say the good Doc needs to call for a handyman, or fire whoever’s doin’ it now. They clearly aren’t cut out for it.’_ Good, some backbone. There was something about cramped, dark halls that turned mine to jelly. At least it wasn’t purple, grey, or yellow. The next floor up was even worse. The bulbs were about half as strong as before, leaving large swathes of hallway I couldn’t see at all.

            _‘Say, Asriel, I think I’ve got an idea.’_ That made one of us.

            _‘What were you thinking?’_

            _‘Boss monsters have fire magic, right?’_ I stopped in place, the faint bile of embarrassment rising in my throat.

            “Oh duh!” I slapped my left hand to my forehead, snapping my right’s fingers. I peeked between my claws, a flickering flame like a lantern’s rising from my palm.

            _‘How come the guy who didn’t grow up with magic was the one that remembered you could do that?’_ Where he sounded genuinely curious, Chara was giggling like a schoolgirl. As awful as it was, I couldn’t really get mad at them.

            “Because the one that did grow up with magic learned real quick that fire and leaves don’t mix.” Cliff hummed in understanding, and Chara managed to rein in their laughter.

            _‘Talk about getting hot under the collar, right?’_ I puffed out my cheeks, the fire in my hand doubling in size and heat.

            _‘Hey now, ain’t that far enough? He already got the memo.’_

_‘Come on, we grew up with each other. Don’t you and Lily have in jokes like that?’_ The word ‘buffoon’ came to mind.

            _‘I guess the line you don’t cross gets a bit farther out the more you get used to… you know. All our crazy business.’_

            “Like it or not, yeah. Kind of hard to get offended when you’ve been in the ground. It puts things in perspective.”

            _‘You have a weird idea of character building exercises, and that’s coming from the guy who wants to fight bulls.’_

_‘Might want to put that dream on a back burner. If you’re using Asriel’s body, the fight might be a little one sided. Isn’t that right, God of Hyperdeath?’_ Oh for the love of…

            “Right you are, Demon That Comes When You Call its Name.” I rolled the awkwardly long phrase around in my head. “Mine’s catchier, for the record.”

            _‘Hey, don’t the rest of us get nicknames?’_ I thought for a second.

            “Oh, sure you do, Cowboy.” He seemed appreciative for the moment before he realized that that was actually my idea.

            _‘Wow, you suck even harder at names than Asgore.’_

            “…Shut up, Chara.”

            Suddenly, a chill ran up my spine. I spun around on my heels, knowing exactly what something like that meant. Never anything good, that’s for sure. My discomfort surrounding the long, dark halls came crashing down on me.

            “You guys feel that?” I could feel eyes in the back of my head, looking at stuff out of my field of vision.

            _‘…Maybe don’t say my name out loud again. Bad things always come to people that say my name.’_ I couldn’t really see the sense in that. They were firmly lodged in my head, and we already established that they weren’t planning on going world eater on us again, but it was off-putting that I got that ominous sensation just as it slipped past my lips.

            _‘And maybe find our way to the end of the hall. Hopefully the Doc’s there, strength in numbers and all that.’_ Yeah, that sounded about good to me. I did that odd type of moving between walking and running, like a speed shuffling, through the next two lengths of hallway.

            Finally, less than fifty feet away, a turn actually brought us to something other than more hallways and stairs. There was a white door at the end lit up by a lone bulb. It looked like its lock was missing, a perfectly round hole standing out above a brass doorknob. A half-moon shaped window set on its flat side was at the top, but I wasn’t tall enough to look through it. I didn’t waste any time, opening and shutting it behind me as quickly as I could manage.

            The room it led to was… strangely homey, out of place in the otherwise plain/creepy office. The back wall held up a TV, a flatscreen on one of those elevated mounts. Beneath it, a shelf was filled with a number of video game consoles and a crystal dragon statue. There was a computer desk on the left, an old, dusty PC taking front and center. On the shelves on top were rows upon rows of…

            _‘…Are those ponies?’_

            Yep, figurines, plush toys, and cardboard cut outs of tiny pastel horses. It was filled to the brim, a couple threatening to topple over the sides. I found myself smiling.

            _‘I kind of like them.’_

_‘Why am I not surprised?’_

            Just then, slow, steady breathing caught my attention. On the right, a queen sized bed ate up a solid third of the floor space. Its covers were a plain cream color, letting the bright blue and red blankets piled around the right side stand out even more.

            Laying there, bundled up like a mummy, was the good Doctor, a book with a blue dragon on the cover draped over his eyes. His breathing was slow, and a line of drool ran down his chin. It was my professional opinion that he was, how you say, out like a busted headlight.

            _‘Does he live in his office? I mean, it cuts down on commute, but still.’_

            I stood there, wondering what I should do. I could’ve woken him up, but that seemed rude. Plus I was in _his_ room. Then again, he did say my appointment was today, and he was technically sleeping on the job.

            Before I could decide, his snoring turned into a harsh snort, and the book fell off his face. His eyes opened slowly, and he stretched an arm out to his nightstand. He hit a button on the side of his old looking flip phone, groaning when he saw the clock.

            “Oh man, the kid’s probably waiting for me. Guy tries to catch a little reading…”

            “Um…” He jolted up out of bed, throwing the covers off to reveal his tie dye shirt and ever tropical shorts. “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just…”

            “No, no, it’s fine. Really.” He rolled his shoulders, popping his back, as he let out a huge yawn. “You were probably worried I’d forgotten, right? That’s completely on me.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stepping down and into a pair of flip flops.

            “I really didn’t know what to think. I just saw the sign said you were open, so I checked around the place for you. Oh, and by the way, the lights in the halls…”

            “Out, right?” I nodded, glad to be out of the pitch black walkways. “I actually keep them like that intentionally.” My jaw dropped. How could anyone enjoy the pitch black trip? “I get that look all the time, but low light environments help me relax. Then there’s the electric bill to consider.” He grabbed a tall cup from his nightstand, flipping open the plastic tab and leaning back to take a drink. The only problem was that nothing came out. He shook it a few times to be sure.

            “Darn, thought I had more in here.” He got to his feet, pulling his white over coat off of his dresser and sliding it over his shoulders. He didn’t bother buttoning it up. “Alright, just give me a minute to grab some coffee and put my book back, then we can get started.” I looked around his room, but I didn’t see any bookshelves. The ones that were there were completely filled with colorful statues.

            He gently grabbed a statue of a hydra, twisting it to the left. The shelf clicked, and he pulled it towards him, uncovering a hidden passage. I was taken off guard by the smell of old paper, ink, and french vanilla coffee.

            “There’s another way back to the first floor through here, too. Unless you want to go down the stairs again?” I shivered at the thought, following closely behind him. He closed the shelf door behind us, and I found myself afflicted with a case of vertigo.

            Then and there, I found out what he actually did with the empty space on the other floors. They all came together to make one massive chamber in the center of it all, connected by bridges and ladders adorned by fancily carved handrails. Each and every wall was formed entirely out of shelves, and each row was filled to the brim with books of every shape and size. There were even more racks on the bottom floor, forming a maze of literature. I picked up the hissing of steam, finding Pauly standing by some sort of fluid dispenser. The french vanilla smell got even stronger up until he put a lid on his beverage.

            “There we go, now…” He tucked the book away into an inner pocket on his coat, finding and descending an exceptionally long ladder with only one hand, the other occupied by his cup. I waited until he was all the way down to even touch it, not sure how sturdy it was. “Come on down, I might have a few stories sitting around down here that you’d like!” I shook the ladder, not caring for how loose its footing was.

            “I’ll just take a shortcut, if that’s alright.” He stared up at me, confused, then concerned as I shimmied up onto the railing.

            “Hold it, kid, what are you…?” I closed my eyes, letting the skin of my back peel away. Strings of magic wove out of the back of my sweater, congealing on the other side as a pair of bumps over my shoulder blades. I pumped more energy into them, forcing them to swell out into two long, flat wings. “Oh, right. Malleable body mass. But, uh, why are your eyes shut?” I fought off a small dizzy spell, though the rainbow of colors seeping through my eyelids didn’t help.

            “I’m not sure how well I can take seeing these things again, but I really don’t want to use that ladder.”

            “Ah, I see. Okay then, I’ll have to be your eyes. Just lower yourself gently from where you are. I’ll make sure you land straight.”

            I held my breath, lightly pushing away from the walkway. My wings’ DT flared, invisible tendrils gripping the air molecules under them and creating bubbles to balance on. I let the pressure out of them slowly, my body gliding down as they deflated. Soon, when the trapped air was almost completely dissipated, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

            “Just a few more inches here. You can let them go now.” I let my lungs relax, releasing the trapped air from both my insides and outside, feet dropping a short way to the floor. My back went all tingly, releasing the spent DT into the air and rendering me grounded once again. Once I was sure the seizure procedure had passed, I opened my eyes, relieved to see it was just Pauly down here in gorgeous normal colors. “You know, that looked like it would make a real bang up poster if you had the right background. Just saying, you ever need some extra funds, find an artist friend and you’ll be rolling in it in no time.” I chuckled at the idea.

            “Okay, I’ll keep it in mind.” He patted me on the back before wandering off, hunting down the right shelf.

            “Go ahead and do some browsing if you want. Consider my library open.”

            “Gee, thanks!” It was a real nice offer, and I could do with a little more reading in my schedule, but I didn’t know where to start. I couldn’t make heads or tails of his organization. There weren’t any signs, just little symbols carved in the sides of the shelves. A trio of spirals that looked like they meant air, a small circle in the middle of a big circle with a line running through it, a simple heart, and so many more. Eventually, I just settled on a random choice, going down the aisle marked with a six pointed star. It looked a little like the tip of a sparkler.

            I whistled, unsure how the wood was holding itself together under the pressure of its contents. The books were jammed in every available spot, not so much as a free square inch of air remaining. A few of them looked interesting, going by the titles anyway, but I was hesitant to burst the bubble so to speak.

            Then I noticed that there were already a few out on a stand near the wall. Curious, I checked them out, only to see that it was more a pedestal than a bookstand. The wood was carved up like a marble column, and the top was covered in a soft, red cushion that reminded me of silk. Two books sat there, covers in pristine condition. They were leather backed, their names printed across them in gold letters.

            “Savage Skies?” I opened the front cover, the first page restating the title with a yin yang symbol stamped just below it. The edges of the page were decorated by a variety of weapons including spears, all sorts of blades, and a metal ball at the end of a string, like a concentrated nunchuck.

            _‘Must be about Chinese fighting styles or something.’_ Of course they’d know that. I noted that book for later, the other drawing my eye. Where Savage Skies was bound by traditional brown leather, this one was coated in the midnight black kind.

            “Past Sins.” There was a nervous quaking at the back of my head.

            _‘I think that might be a bit too close to home for you and your pal here. No offense, but…’_

            “None taken, Cliff. None at all.” With a title like that, there was a good chance it would just rub salt in the wound. I gently pulled my gaze from its cover.

            _‘Okay, nervous breakdown averted. Let’s go with the fighting one, yeah?’_

            “Sure, fighting sounds good.”

            “1’m gl@d y0u @gr33.” That voice scraped its way through my ears, like a styrofoam pad getting torn in a low pitch. A soft thud hit the ground behind me, and I nervously, cautiously, turned to face it. I was surprised to see nothing more than a bundle of brown rags with a fedora on top.

            _‘That wasn’t there a second ago. Chara, you see anything?’_ A black leather jacket fluttered down, landing on the pile. I looked up, expecting to see someone standing on the rafters.

            _‘Asriel, down in front!’_ By the time I realigned myself, it was already too late, a strike to the chest launching me through the pedestal and into the wall. Straps from the pile followed after like tentacles, pushing against me and rooting themselves in the wood.

            The whole mass was like the skeletal structure of a broad, four fingered hand, and the rest of the bundle rose soon after. It shot forward, the rags tightening around themselves to make a thin, lanky body. The jacket wrapped around its imitation of a back, its other ‘arm’ a barely held together collection of straps that dragged along the floor, and the fedora mounted the lump on top that twisted into a featureless head.

            “F0u^d y0u, 01d fr13^d.” A layer on its face pulled apart, the black gap under the wraps suddenly lit by a glowing, red eye, a slit pupil shaking with the abomination’s mania. The way its face twisted gave the impression of a sneer. “Chara!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I quite enjoy writing for Pauly, almost as much as I enjoy referencing my past fandom escapades. There's something about infinitely chill, knowledgeable people that draws my eye. But hey, that's enough egotism for me for one day.
> 
> Also, I had no idea what the monster at the end would be up until I actually got there. The time came and I just threw together the first thing that came to mind. I'd say it's fittingly creepy, yeah?


	6. Vice of Flesh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One may always be ensnared by wayward machinations, but who is the one pulling the strings?

            “Chara!” The creature’s declaration cut through my thick skin, leaving my most well buried secrets exposed. A Soul in my chest pulsed with uncertainty.

            _‘Do you know this thing?’_

_‘No!’_ They sounded as confused and, for once, terrified as me. The leather claws pinning me to the wall tightened, compressing my lungs like a rubber duck. My energy grew frantic, spurred on by my panicked hunt for a way out. _‘Let us think this out, you just keep him occupied.’_ Easier said than done, but I had one advantage. I remembered what made a monster tick.

            “What… What are you?” Talking with flattening lungs was harder than you’d think, my voice coming out in shallow trickles of words.

            “…You don’t recall?” Its head came in close, that red eye less than a hair away from mine. “Ah, I see, they’ve left the flower in control. Oh well, no matter. I suppose you have some claim to the right of knowing who’s strangling you at a given moment.” Its almost noble choice of words and inflections contrasted with its gravelly, beastly tone, putting it above everyone else in the room in more ways than one.

            “In truth, the form you see before you is a temporary measure. I seem to have lost my usual ‘tailor,’ so to speak, and I can’t be showing myself in my birthday suit. No, that wouldn’t bode well for this quaint little world.” Its other arm, a mess of stray straps dangling from its jacket’s sleeve, twisted about itself, the ends coming together into another broad, claw like hand. “As interesting as it is, this loose body simply will not do forever. But, fortunately, I have ways around such issues.” Its free hand came up, spread open with its palm aimed at my face. My heart raced as it drew closer, but the stranglehold restricted how I could react. “You will learn first hand what my _true_ self is like…”

            Just as I smelled the aged fabric of its skin, a loud crack rang through the room and it recoiled, swinging around to find the source. A line of smoke caught my eye, leading to a copper bullet lodged in the back of its neck.

            “Get your filthy mitts off my patient.” I craned my neck, peering out from under its arm to see Doctor Pauly at the end of the aisle, a black pistol held confidently in his hands.

            “Isn’t that adorable, Chara? The mortal thinks such a basic weapon makes it a threat! Surely he jests, or perhaps he’s as mad as those he treats?” The straps around me loosened their grip, letting me take in a proper breath. “Oh well, he should be fun enough to decimate either…!”

            His boasting was interrupted by a burst of flames, my scream peppering him with a cloud of fire. It was kind of thin, barely even warm, but it was enough to make him take his claw off me. I dropped to the floor, quickly throwing myself to the bookshelf on the right and scurrying up and over it. I fell to the ground just as it huffed, annoyed.

            “Hm, perhaps I shouldn’t be so quick to underestimate a foe such as you, dear Prince. When next I grasp you, I shan’t waste a moment.” Two more gunshots rippled through the air followed by the dull thuds of their impact. “In that spirit, I feel it would be wise to face you one on one. Give me a moment to rectify the mortal’s folly.” A heavy step landed, and a calm, collected hum answered it.

            “If it’s wrong to shoot a guy like you in the face, then I say being right is too boring.” Another crack, and the creature growled in disapproval.

            “You impudent bottom feeder, know thee not who thou strikes!?” I flinched away from the shelf, a bundle of straps punching through and rooting themselves in the hole. I looked up, its leathery frame spreading out into a wide shouldered behemoth, looming down over Pauly.

            _‘Asriel…!’_

_‘I’ve got it!’_ Even once burned, an egotist couldn’t resist monologuing. I just needed a little more muscle to take advantage of the opening.

            _‘Yo, someone call the pain train?’_

_‘Bill? I thought you were sleeping in there?’_

_‘Chara’s goin’ ‘round and waking us up. I’m guessin’ that big bastard’s why.’_ I nodded, rolling up my sleeves. _‘A’right! Finally, some action!’_ Even with the situation at hand, his childlike enthusiasm for pummeling something to dust made me smile.

            _‘Well, what are you waiting for? I need to buff out, now!’_

_‘On it!’_ His Soul swelled, releasing more orange DT into our system. It branched out from my core, every muscle it touched doubling in mass. I was braced for the internal shifting associated with it, but I wasn’t expecting the yellow tinting to my vision.

            _‘Now you weren’t planning on leaving ‘Cowboy’ out of it, were you?’_ I smirked, my eyes growing sharper and sharper as Cliff released his DT into the mix.

            “The man before you knows no terror. I am Death, he who rides unto dusk. I am ash, the spirit of the ravenous flame. I am…!”

            “Too loud!” I hurled myself into the shelf, forcing the aisle shut with the creature jammed in the middle. I didn’t stop there, though, pushing harder and harder, shoving each consecutive barrier along until the entire pile was jammed against the wall. I glanced over my shoulder, Pauly taking a dueler’s stance and aiming above the bookshelf sandwich. “You need to get out of here, and call for help!”

            “Pardon the French, but screw that noise.” His bright blue eyes were unwavering, looking straight down the barrel of his gun. “What kind of hypocritical doctor would I be if I left you behind in your time of need? I’m not leaving this room until that guy’s left sprawling on the ground.” My eyes widened, that firm decisiveness in his words so familiar. It drove me to work harder, pressing so hard against the shelves that the outermost layer punched through the exterior of the wall. The straps that poked out on my side squirmed, trying to tear the shelf apart.

            “Now that’s more like it! And here I thought you would go crying to the Timekeeper!” A force pressed back against me, the wall inching back, grinding across the ground. I dug my claws into the floorboards and stiffened my arms, but still I lost footing bit by bit. “Now then, let’s see just how Determined you can be!”

            When the gap was wide enough, its strength shifted downwards, lifting itself out of the clamp. Its fedora was ruined, halfheartedly pushed back into almost the right shape, and its jacket was wrinkled and ripped, but it didn’t care. Its eye glowed brightly, the pupil barely visible, and more straps had peeled apart to show off ivory fangs, a mouthful of flesh rending canines. They split apart, letting out an unhinged cackle.

            “The big kids are talking, so get that blasted peashooter out of my face, human.” It raised an arm, bringing it down as the straps untangled into a wide fan of whips. They crashed through the ground, missing the sidestepping Pauly by only a moment.

            “Actually, that’s exactly where I want it.” He pulled the trigger, and the creature’s eye erupted in a shower of blood red sparks. It leased an ear shattering cry, and I could hear the glass in the room fall to pieces. The lightbulbs above us popped, raining down a shower of shards and casting the library into darkness.

            “You filthy primate! I will rend the flesh from your bones and forge a new body from it!” It flailed wildly, the shelves around it rocking with each uncontrolled spasm, and I backed away quickly. I could tell there wasn’t any light to see with, but I could still make out the room perfectly, everything taking on a yellow tinge.

            _‘You have night vision, Cliff?’_

            _‘I’m as shocked as you, but I’ll take it.’_ Best to not look a gift horse in the mouth, at least not while something else was already trying to bite us. I hurried over to Pauly, keeping most of my focus on the writhing pile of leather that was grasping at its face.

            “Come on, we’re going.” I kept my voice low and quiet, under the volume of its reckless panic. That was a fairly large margin, though, a wayward whip smashing through another row of books.

            “If we leave, he’ll head out into town and wipe out the population hunting us down.” I almost cursed under my breath, realizing he was right. A destructive blob rampaging through town, even a blind one, sounded like less than a good idea.

            “What should we do?”

            “That looks like pretty old leather he's made out of. If we can wash out its oils and supercool it, he should break like a cheap vase.” Well, I could probably find a way to drop the temperature with magic, but I didn’t know the first thing about summoning elements besides fire. Where would we find…?

            My eyes shot up to the top floor, Pauly’s fancy coffee maker still undamaged.

            “I’ll go get the boiling water. Just keep his attention down here. I’ll keep an eye out if you need covering fire.” He tapped his pistol against his thigh. “I’ve got plenty of rounds.” I let the corner of my eye move from the immediate threat, looking at him dead on.

            “How’re you planning on getting up there when it’s pitch…?” The question died in my throat. He looked directly back at me, his soft smile an assuring presence, and his eyes glowed a ghostly blue.

            “I’ve got my ways, kid. And you have yours. Let’s put them to use, eh?” He winked, and, swallowing my shock and the itch at the back of my mind, I nodded back. He ran to the nearest ladder, and it wobbled with each step, clicking against the wall.

            “Where are you going?” I turned back to the leather beast in time to see it lunging forward, a line of straps behind it skewering five shelves. It landed, but the line kept going, a huge hammer of wood taking off and rushing through the air on collision course with the ladder.

            I rushed forward, putting myself in front of his strike, and threw a hand forward. A fireball formed in my palm, and I hurled it at the makeshift projectiles, instantly breaking them down into a cloud of hot ash. The wave split open, a leather bound beast charging through the murk, its eye burning a fiery red.

            “You hope to beat me with such simple strategies?” It bore down on me, and, in a rush of instincts I didn’t know I had, my legs carried me out of its path, letting it crash headfirst into a wall as I pirouetted out the last of my unneeded momentum.

            _‘And this ruffian hopes to intimidate a conglomerate of beings used to large threats? I thought performance judges were self centered.’_ My heart warmed at the sound of another supportive voice, and Cliff seemed to agree.

            _‘Well howdy, Lil, I thought you said you didn’t like rodeos?’_

_‘I don’t, but the legwork involved is quite admirable.’_

            It was a good thing she studied, because we could use every trick in the book. It climbed the wall like a spider, supporting itself on three straps above its head, pulled taught so it could lean over us like a more demented gargoyle. The glow of its eye intensified and it leaned back, its chest swelling with an unknown attack.

            _‘Quick, cut its strings!’_ A new voice rang in my head, soft, innocent. _‘It’s like a puppet. Cut the strings and it should drop like a rock.’_

            _‘Good thinking, Sherri.’_ Another one, this one male. I could almost hear John pushing the glasses up his nose. _‘Try to work a fireball into a flat board bent at a one hundred seven degree angle. I can help you aim.’_

            Time was short, but I could handle the pressure. I slammed my fists together in front of me, dragging them apart as they left a conjoined string of flames. Once they were a foot and a half apart, I pushed them down, bending the burning stick into the right shape. A phantasmic hand tugged at my wrist, directing it over the opposite shoulder.

            _‘Throw on my signal.’_ I stood there and waited, keeping my eyes glued on our target as its strung together torso struggled to stay whole under the internal force. Its lips parted, teeth scraping apart, and a point in my chest lit up. _‘Now!’_

            I threw our makeshift boomerang as hard as I could, letting the invisible hands guide my arm, fingers releasing as they pressed at the back of my wrist. It cut cleanly and swiftly through the air, barely giving it time to register the attack before it burnt cleanly through its overhead supports. It wobbled on its inadequate legs, gravity dragging it face down as the pent up energy released. A blast of raw, crimson magic shot forth, the floor bursting into a cloud of wood shrapnel and smoke. Its landing was drowned out by the explosion, but the lack of disturbance to the smoke told me it wasn’t getting right back up. We had a moment to spare.

            _‘Am… am I late?’_ A seventh voice joined the growing internal crowd, this one as soft as Sherri’s, though I knew it wasn’t by choice. I wasn’t expecting her to show up at all, and John agreed.

            _‘Terry, what are you doing? You don’t need to get caught up in something like this again.’_ His Soul grew heavy in my chest.

            _‘No, we’re only alive, or close to it, because of Asriel. I need to be here.’_ The red Soul bobbed up and down in a nod.

            _‘Az can only reach full power if we all cooperate. It was easy when you were out of commission, but now that you’re sentient again, you need to be mentally aware and willing.’_ A hush fell over the group, the realization of what Chara’s plan was finally landing. _‘So, what do you say? Are you willing to put all your chips on the fur ball, or are you ready to give into that dried out creep?’_

_‘Y’all can count me in, man.’_ A thud like a gorilla pounding pridefully followed. _‘If this is a full on gang war, it won’t be my first. My heart’s all yours.’_ Sherri’s light blue aura flared, throwing her lot in with her big brother.

            _‘Shoot, Lil and I are already puttin’ our all in. You really gotta ask?’_

_‘Indeed. I trust you to use our energy correctly. Well, Asriel, at the very least.’_

            _‘You’re sure about this?’_ The flow of purple DT waned, hesitant, but when the green surged through my system, we all knew Terry’s final answer. _‘Alright. If you’re okay with it, then so am I.’_ John’s last restraint fell away, adding to the raging whirlpool of power building within me.

            In an instant, I could feel the power taking hold. My skin and fur dissolved, leaving only the energy they thinly veiled. It was a feeling unlike anything else, as if my consciousness itself was spreading. I could feel from every last drop of DT like it was an extension of my skin, and yet thoughts flowed through it like my brain was wired throughout the whole. With these indescribable sensations flooding through me, I could see why I once thought myself a God.

            _Darkness in every direction, as far as the eye could see. In the distance, a breeze blew through the hollowed halls of New Home. In front of me, a human child stood, pained, furious tears on the verge of breaking free. Yet still they refused to raise a hand against me. I grinned, relishing in my inevitable victory._

            I tore myself from the relapse, my mind throbbing as time threatened to collapse around it. The longer I held my heightened state, the more fierce the pain became. I had to end this quickly.

            “Yes, YES!” The dust dispersed, the scratched but still very much alive beast rising from its crater. Its fangs were clenched together, struggling to support its wicked smile. “I was worried you had grown soft on me in my absence, but I see you’re still very much a force to be reckoned with. I greet thee graciously, oh God of Hyperdeath!” I fought down the sting along the center of my brain, molding myself into a humanoid form.

            “Who, me?” I scoffed, letting my good nature fall away. This one didn’t deserve its kindness. “I’m no god, not anymore. But if you insist on paying tribute, I’ll gladly oblige.” I reached my hands out to the sides, binding magic together into metal. My scimitars glowed dully in the pitch black chamber.

            _“Chaos Saber!” Frisk ducked under my charge, not expecting my second blade to hook their ankles. I tore their footing out from under them, driving a point downwards towards their heart._

            A leather arm uncoiled as it flung it at me, fingers opening like the claw of a crane game. I took a shallow breath, spitting out a magic bolt. It struck the gap at the base of its palm, its skin cracking as intent tore at its molecular structure. I easily sidestepped its disoriented attack, bringing a blade down and severing its arm at the elbow. It reared back and screeched, arm falling into a tangled mess at its side.

            _Frisk screamed as cold steel pierced their ribs. Their flesh was left unmarked, but the Soul that commanded it was split in two. I was almost frothing at the mouth, the Reset so close I could taste it._

            I took the initiative, closing the gap as it tried to collect itself. I drove a blade forward, planting it through the upper front pocket of its jacket. The other was soon to follow, splitting leather as I lodged it in the base of its neck.

            Its eye focused, growling like a rabid dog. It grabbed me by the back of my robes, flinging me into the wall behind it. It moved to my ankle, throwing me with all its might across the room.

            _“No…” Frisk’s hands clamped around the sword, pushing it away from them despite the not blunted edges cutting into their hands. They blotted out the pain and blood loss, fighting me to the last. “I can’t die yet!” They bore their teeth like a provoked lion, eyelids parting ever so slightly. I couldn’t make out any details of the orbs beneath them, but I had other concerns, the sword in my hand vibrating wildly. “I refuse!”_

            I crashed through a bookshelf, splinters and pages flying everywhere, but I couldn’t feel a thing. I cackled madly, amused by its pitiful attempts at wounding the invincible, as I snapped my fingers. The blades still stuck in its body shined like the sun, outer shells bursting to reveal the surprises I left embedded in the metal. Star shaped pockets of magic reacted to the air, their loosely bound structure unraveling as they detonated. Smoke billowed from every gap in its body, and it fell to the floor, fighting to hold up its ever fragmenting form.

            I floated out of the wreckage, feet suspended inches over the floor. Broken wood trickled from the folds of my robes. I drifted towards its battered excuse for a body, offhandedly reforming two new swords.

            “So, is that all you’ve to present me, or do you wish to spill more of your own blood on the alter?” I licked my teeth, equally eager for either answer. It brought itself back to its feet, panting like a mutt. It couldn’t even stand straight, hunched over and holding its charred chest.

            “Oh, I’m not done yet.”

            _A wave of energy flooded from them, hitting me with the force of a charging bull. I held my ground for as long as I could, but the wave wouldn’t stop, pushing me across the floor. I dropped, my own discarded sword sent flying past my head and scraping against my horn. Strangely, it felt like it had struck me more directly, a splitting headache taking root._

            “Not by a long shot.”

            _I rushed to make more swords, my old ones clattering to the ground. Slowly, as though burdened by the weight of the world itself, Frisk stood up. In front of them, the scarlet fragment of their Soul pieced themselves back together, sinking back into them as a complete, undamaged heart. My own raced, straining to pump correctly. No, that wasn’t…_

            “But it would seem you are nearing your limit.” I dropped to my knees, desperately trying to clutch my heart. Its pattern was uneven, staggered, and the hellish agony in my head cascaded down to every other nerve in my body.

            _‘Yo, Az, get the Hell up, man!’_

_‘Mister Asriel!’_

            Phantoms filled my vision. A brutish looking punk plummeting from a higher floor. A small, pale skinned girl holding her stomach, blood dripping down her chin as she coughed violently.

            _‘C’mon, get a grip!’_

_‘Please, we put our faith in you for a reason. You need to stand up.’_

            Two kids, about the same age. Her leotard staining red. His bright, lively eyes falling into nothingness.

            _‘It’s no use, his mind is stuck between two realities. Reason is lost on him.’_

_‘…Please, don’t leave us alone…’_

            A brilliant mind succumbing to the blood of the earth. A loving heart drowned in a tidal wave of dust.

            “It’s a shame, truly it is. There is no greater waste than that of a promising opponent.” Out of nowhere, a dark brown hand slammed against my snout, sending me back into a pile of broken boards and scattered pages. I looked back, a leather bound demon chuckling at my expense. Its claws flexed, abyssal black fur blending into the shadows. “Alas, poor Dreemurr, I knew him not.”

            “Stop with the misquoting!” A thunderous crack. A line of smoke trailing from the back of its head. I stretched a hand skyward, looking for someone, anyone, on the golden railings above. A warm hand wrapped around mine.

            _‘That’s enough.’_ A red phantom lingered in front of me, this one more stable than the others. I held on to its hand as tightly as possible, trying to tell myself that it was really there. _‘You put up one heck of a fight, and that’s all I could ask. Now, it’s my turn.’_ It came closer, letting me make out the red in its eyes. They were downcast, mournful, but unwavering.

            “Char… Cha…”

            _‘Shh.’_ They held a finger over my lips. _‘You’ve earned a nice, long rest. All of you.’_ They let their eyelids shut, body completely relaxing. They tensed, and their eyes flew open, pupils shrunken to the point of a dagger, next to nothing in those pools of crimson. _‘Sleep.’_

            It was so hard to respond. To think of how to further my case. To think at all.

            “GET AWAY!” Through the fog, I heard a voice. It was so much harsher than usual. Was something going on?

            “F… Fri… Is ev… every…?” I couldn’t get up. The covers were too heavy to move. I must’ve been more tired than I thought. I wanted to see if I should help, but I couldn’t even get out of bed. No, Chara was right. I just needed to sleep…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this yesterday, but you know... Mother's Day. Spending it with the family is necessary. So, for being patient, here's goat bro getting the petals kicked out of him. Don't get your pitchforks out yet, Chara has dibs. You really want to get in their way?
> 
> Also, for having been out for nearly two years, I'm surprised so many Undertale names are still considered incorrect by the document programs. You'd think there'd be major patches for 'wrong' words being used often enough, right?


	7. The Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brilliant heart, an impenetrable darkness. Where one walks, the other surely follows.

            With Greater Dog at your back, the trip to New Haven passed in record time. There were benefits to having a rocket powered bodyguard, especially one as driven and loyal as him. He was just as determined to get to Asriel’s side as you, and that was saying something.

            That vision still played in the bleakest corners of your mind. Gaster tried his hardest to blur them away, but every time he finished casting one screen into abyssal static, two cropped up elsewhere. That thick, warped voice haunted your every thought.

            _‘F0u^d y0u, 01d fr13^d.’_ It sounded so familiar, but the blurred audio kept you from putting your finger on it, no matter how many times you heard it.

            _‘Perhaps the phrase itself holds a clue?’_ You pondered it, running through the four brief words every way you could consider.

            _‘Who’s he mean by old friend?’_

_‘Well, there are eight unique personalities woven into Asriel’s skin, and I have my doubts that average, misfortunate humans could have any ties to seemingly cosmic or occult beings.’_ That certainly narrowed down the list. Thinking on it, though, the probability of one dropped severely.

            _‘Flowey was a solo operator, and Asriel before him was a guarded prince. Couldn’t be him.’_

_‘I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. A demon rubbing elbows with demons, one that seems to want their head on a pike no less. It would fall in line with their past experiences quite well.’_ You and Asriel talked all the time, but your information on Chara was limited. They almost never took control of their shared body, Bill having done so at least ten times as often on his own, and when they were at the helm, they never left an opening to ask about their past.

            You believed their desire to be better was earnest, but everything else about them was illusive at best. The one hard trait you could pin of their current self was an almost obsessive compulsion to protect Asriel. It was all you needed to know they changed from their old, omnicidal self, at least enough to be considered a moral grey.

            _‘You are quick to place your faith in the one who had the most direct hand in both your and Asriel’s temporal suffering.’_

_‘Everyone deserves a second chance if they truly want it.’_

_‘And how are you certain that such are their real intentions? With the exception of Bill, most everyone who has ever encountered them would admit to their manipulative nature, regardless of how flowery they pose it.’_ Beneath his deep rooted disdain and dismissal, you could feel Gaster’s genuine concern. His worry that the people he loved were in danger from a force he could see closing in. Even if you didn’t agree, you could sympathize. _‘I respect your decision to spare them, but if they are going to draw such colossal threats our way, purposefully or not, I can’t help but find it daft to let them remain.’_ You shook your head gently.

            _‘Hands are tied. They saved Asriel, and he would’ve been Flowey, maybe worse, if Chara hadn’t come back. No Asriel, no us. Objectively, we owe them both our lives.’_ He sighed, conceding to your point.

            _‘Please, just be careful of where you place your faith. I do not wish to remind you of the responsibility you carry, but every member of monster kind respects your word to the upmost degree. One foul move could send ripples across the kingdom, across the world, and I wouldn’t wish that blunder to come from your greatest virtue.’_ You appreciated his wisdom, and you heeded his warning, but your mind was made. You trusted Chara, and you would stand by them to the bitter end. You were, effectively, siblings, and you would see them through their hardships like any good family would.

            Suddenly, a wave of lightheadedness washed over you. You hunched over, trying to keep yourself from waving about in your chair, but the numbing of your nerves made fine control difficult. There was a quiet, muffled ringing in your ears.

            _‘Hurry, young one. The blight is upon us.’_ For a moment, the world around you changed drastically. The ruins of a library, many shelves around a deep crater catching fire. A man stood on a higher platform, but most of his features were obscured. His clothes were painfully colorful barring the white lab coat hastily thrown overtop, and there was a pistol in his right hand.

            He brought it forward, barrel aiming down at a hazy, humanoid figure. Sometimes, its skin was a dried brown, others, as black as the void. Either way, its blindingly white fangs contrasted with their owner, highlighting the vicious smirk across its muzzle. Its eye was a nightmarish shade of red, like its blood had pooled around a vertically slit pupil.

            _‘Under the desk in PB’s office, a turning dial. Hurry.’_

            You snapped back to your physical body, your breaths short and rapid. Your muscles pulsed, the empowering burn of DT rushing through your veins. Somehow, the torso and leg casts that bound you to inactivity seemed increasingly brittle with each beat of your Soul.

            _‘What did you see?’_ You could feel Gaster manipulating his own Determination within you, corroding your shell of plaster and numbing your pain receptors. He knew full well that stopping you was a fool’s errand.

            “They’re in Pauly’s clinic, but something’s already there with them.” Greater behind you growled, and you felt your chair lifting from the ground. Whoever said dogs were land creatures hadn’t done proper research, apparently, because he was flying off the handle in more ways than one. Thankfully, his grip on yours was firm, carrying you along for the ride.

            The raw windspeed distorted your vision, and when things finally came back into focus, you had landed just inside the front door of the clinic, the air smelling faintly of jet fuel. Greater’s heavy footsteps shook the floor, pushing you through the door on the left and into the main office.

            You stood, powering through the shaking of your legs and the thick coat of white dust falling from them, and leaped towards the desk. You barely had to duck to get under it, though your head bumped against a piece of metal extending from the wood. You touched it, feeling it out as a sort of oval. You thought it looked like gold, but it was too dark to be sure and you had too little time to double check. You turned your hand, and the odd nob followed with a series of clicks.

            The groan of wood grinding past itself drew you back out into open air. A shelf was sliding aside, revealing there was no wall behind it. Instead there was only a navy blue door with a light green handle. Greater was already on it, opening it to reveal a short hallway. Its floor and walls were stone, lit by a row of torches mounted on each side.

            Without missing a beat, you broke into a dead sprint. Your footing was constantly shifting, a combination of your numbed nerve endings and months of inactivity rusting your basic ability to move. It was only Gaster’s tireless correcting of misjudged steps that kept you from tripping over your own feet. Somewhere ahead, on the other side of a wooden wall, you heard a voice.

            “Alas, poor Dreemurr, I knew him not.” A chord plucked deep in your psyche, bringing images of a figure in the murk. A loud bang followed, a gun being fired, and your heart almost dropped before you heard a far more comforting presence.

            “Stop with the misquoting!” Of course someone who was an actual threat to Asriel wouldn’t use a firearm. Their raw magic potential made physical bullets all but useless. But that also applied to someone strong enough to taunt him so casually. At best, the shots wouldn’t make them bat an eye. At worst, they’d turn their eye to Pauly. Neither lead anywhere pleasant. It was time to act. “Properly quoted, you would say, “Alas, poor Asriel, I knew him, Frisk.”

            _‘That sounds like a stage direction if I’ve ever heard one.’_ You nodded, letting Gaster take full control of your legs. There was something else that you had made a point of keeping as sharp as a tack. You reached inwards, throwing the valves open and letting your Determination flow freely from their streams. Your skin crackled like a thunderhead, and the dark chamber glowed with golden light.

            You shaped it closer to your skin, a flowing shell of pure energy. Gaster eased control of your limbs back to you, and you jumped, pulling your head down and pushing a shoulder out. Even before contact, stray sparks charred the wood, weakening their integrity. When you finally met, it was nothing short of detonation. The outer layer of your shield dispersed, cutting through matter like a meat grinder and thrusting it away at once.

            “GET AWAY!” The debris cleared, a floor of rubble, stray pages, and what appeared to be the remnants of lightbulbs stretching out before you, illuminated only by your magic. In the middle of it all was the robed visage of Hyperdeath. Asriel was splayed across the ground, unmoving, eyes fogged over. His robe was ripped in countless places, and his right horn was cracked at the tip. Standing over him was something you couldn’t even start putting a name to. It was almost in the shape of a human, but its proportions were all wrong, four fingered hand thrice as wide as it should’ve been, and its skin was composed of layered leather straps. Its back was still towards you, but that wouldn’t last long.

            You brought a fist up, pushing electricity to the edge of its knuckles. With a twitch of the muscles, your hand rocketed ahead of you, on course for the base of its spine. A moment before impact, though, the space in front of you blurred. It drifted away from you, dodging your strike, but you were certain it hadn’t moved. No, it was more like space had distorted around it, setting it down out of your range. No other options left, you crashed down on solid wood, leaving a dent in the floor. You were sure your knuckles would’ve been screaming at you for it if you could feel pain.

            “Well, well, it seems the old adage about patience holds a grain of truth.” It turned towards you, this time actually moving. Each strand moved individually, only the tightly coiled chest and head moving as a single entity. When it faced you, you had to resist the urge to gawk, that horrible red in its single eye and its slightly off center mouth lined with more teeth than a shark. “Hello, most illusive Timekeeper. It has been a fair while.” His tone was thick and rumbly, and his lack of response to an attack painted his confidence in clear letters.

            You kept him locked in your field of view, primarily focusing on his face and, further still, on the movements of his eye, but you kept note of his entire body. With such a loose structure, there wasn’t any telling if he would have the same facial cues as those you were used to dealing with. You raised a hand to each side, summoning and congealing your lightning into a pair of long, thin blades. If his skin was as tough as it appeared, their serrated edges would be exceptionally useful.

            “Oh, are you not in the mood to speak with me properly?” He shrugged, the strips bordering his eyes constricting into a squint. “And here I thought I was being polite, observing your world’s customs.”

            “Hurt my brother. Wouldn’t call that polite.” He spun his hand dismissively.

            “Need we be so picky? It’s not as though you actually share blood. Why worry when his is spilled?” For a moment, you nearly loosened your hold over your lightning. As viscerally satisfying it would have been to display your opinion through actions, they had to be careful. Wasting your first strike on an emotional outburst would have been a poor and ineffective move. Until one of you pushed it, there would be a lull in the combat. You had to take advantage of it.

            “Who are you?” His eye widened slightly.

            “Hmm, that’s new. People don’t usually bother with the who. Perhaps the what, but, more often than not, they just ask…” His smile widened, as though he was losing himself in his memories.

            “Why?” He straightened his posture, collecting himself in the span of a breath. “Well, I go by many names. Ares, Dash, perhaps a few stints as Mimi for the heck of it. If memory serves, you should already be familiar with at least two others. But let’s skip the quaint little nicknames, yes? We are among kin, after all.” He dropped his claw, grabbing a still intact book from the ground, leaving you to question what he meant. You were sure you had never seen him before. “You may call me the Hedon!” His claw snapped shut, breaking through the hard backed novel and crushing its contents with little difficulty. He threw it to the air, spreading white and black confetti over his head.

            “Or, you know, just Hedon, if you’re feeling improper. I will know you speak of me in either case.”

            “Everything about you is improper.” From the darkness above your head, you caught wind of two blue lights. You couldn’t tell what they were, but you couldn’t mistake your own doctor’s voice. Hedon hummed, surprised for the first time since you arrived.

            “I’m impressed, human. Utterance of a divine title from divine lips would normally render vermin like yourself useless.”

            “Sorry, pal, but you came to the wrong place to preach.” A brief whistle sounded, only giving him a split second to bolt to the side before a golden spear cut through where he once was. It lodged itself deeply in the ground, buried to half a foot past its head. “The only higher power I acknowledge is my electricity bill. Now that’s a conductive faith, right, Frisk?” On top of the specific call out to you, the slight, almost unnoticeable misuse of a very specific word caught your ear. The pieces clicked together when Hedon reached for the spear.

            “The old ‘God to a nonbeliever’ routine, eh? I supposed we should see just how firm the latter stands.” His hand clasped down on the metal, and you struck, launching a thin, concentrated bolt. It hit just as the head pulled from the ground, leaving no other paths for the electricity to pass through. It shot up his arm, burning it as black as the rest of the room. It might’ve done more if he hadn’t been quick in dropping the weapon. It clattered to the ground, but not before his only arm was left as a lump of coal at his side.

            “Damn, I’ve been disarmed.” Without missing a beat, he twirled around on one leg, bringing the heel of his cylindrical foot down towards you. You launched yourself backwards, dodging all but the burst of wind that followed him. “Good thing I have a leg up on the competition.” It took a second to notice, but the flooring under your right leg wasn’t stable, like there was a thick, segmented sheet between you and the ground. The squeak of crossing leather was the first and only warning you got, stray straps whipping up and anchoring your leg in place.

            “Pretty handy trick, isn’t it? And Asriel thought he was clever, trying to take my limbs off.” A swarm of straps bursted from his armless shoulder, curling around his chest and ripping the useless mass from the other side. When he was finished, he had an unwrapped, undamaged collection of tendrils where his arms should’ve been. You gritted your teeth, the massive damage you had inflicted amounting to nothing. His right bundle coiled into an almost proper arm, fingers spread open. “Now, hold still. This will only take a second.”

            Unfortunately for him, you didn’t have a second to spare. You breathed deeply, letting Determination pool in your lungs and mingle with the air. You could feel it sparking like a tesla ball, ready to release at the slightest provocation. His hand came up, cupped in a way to grab your face, and you parted your lips. Before you could let it go, though, his hand snapped back, a high pitched cry screaming out as you saw the glint of metal jammed in his palm.

            “B A C K O F F.” Your blood ran cold, a thousand waking nightmares tearing through you in an instant. Papyrus pleading to your better nature as his body fell to dust. Lansot backing away, mortal terror in his eyes. Undyne melting, her mission ultimately a failure. Your Determination streams locked up, the ball of electricity in your chest fizzing out.

            From the rubble, a body rose, but it wasn’t Asriel anymore. White hair fell off in clumps, and the robes burned away in crimson flames. Beneath them was a malnourished, pale humanoid, but you couldn’t call them a human. They gave that up a long time ago. When the robes were gone, a stretched, green and yellow sweater and maroon shorts remained. The horns atop their head receded into their hair, a parting of their brown bangs revealing the burning embers that took the place of their eyes. Over their shoulders, two membranous wings appeared, as though woven from the darkness of the room. A ring of knives circled in the air behind them, suspended by an unseen spell.

            They glanced at you, but before you could squirm under their gaze, the grasping strands at your feet disintegrated, the barest scrapes on your legs marking the role of knives. The clattering of metal and frustrated panting reminded you who the real threat was, letting you bury your Soul’s biases for the time being. Hedon flexed his hand repeatedly, wincing with each twitch. Despite it all though, once the shock passed, his face was lit by a smile more sincere than anything he had stated thus far.

            “Took you long enough, Chara! That is what you call yourself these days, yes?” He rolled his arm around, oblivious to the growing dark rings around Chara’s eyes. “I suppose I can’t critique your name choices too heavily. I’m not much bet…” He ducked, a razor edge grazing his crushed fedora. A flick of the hand reloaded Chara’s stock, and the way they hunched over, twisting their sharpened nails as though strangling someone, said they were more than willing to use them all.

            “I D O N’ T K N O W Y O U. I D O N’ T W A N T T O.” Instead of crumbling under their gaze like nearly anyone else, Hedon merely deflated, almost like a tire with a nail jammed through it.

            “You truly have lost yourself, haven’t you? What happened to the good old days? Where is the little tyrant I so adored?” Your DT surged once more, a lightbulb appearing before you. You raised your swords, crossing them in front of you.

            “What do you know about them?” You stood firm, making your presence as demanding as possible. Chara fell into malevolent silence, the _zone_ , as they called it. Hatred boiled in their eyes, but they displayed no outward signs. To most, it was the face of terror itself. To Hedon, it was mundane, worthy of no reaction.

            “I know they would never stoop so low as to stand on equal footing with a transient such as yourself.” His frown bent into a bitter smile. “But then, I suppose my own attachment to you is abnormal as well. This world holds many surprises, does it not?” His eye turned to you, his expression outwardly warm but lacking the heart behind it.

            “Well, nothing else to do about it, I’m afraid.” His body pulsed, the slack between the layers of his skin tightening away. His arms solidified, swelling as though someone exceptionally muscular was putting them on as sleeves. His legs followed, leaving behind no signs that he was hollow inside. His complete form towered over you, and he moved as though popping joints. “I’ll just have to rid this realm of your corrupting presence, once and for all.”

            “O V E R M Y D E A D B O D Y!” Chara blinked forward, swinging their bladed ring by an invisible handle in the center. They missed by a wide margin, their wide arc leaving a gap underneath to slip through. Hedon responded with an uppercut, launching them into the air. Their wings spread, and they lifted themselves out of melee range, rotating their knives forward with a turn of the hand. “D I E.”

            Their hand snapped straight, knife after knife raining down in succession. Hedon weaved between them effortlessly, inching closer and closer with each dodge. His eyes were locked on Chara up above, leaving a huge blindspot on the ground behind him. You waited for the impact of a knife, dashing forward in the brief moment between aerial strikes. You swung both swords as though they were one, leaving two parallel wounds above their left hip. The blades stopped four inches in, becoming stuck in the shockingly thick leather. From what you could see, though his core was hollow, his hide was densely packed, giving it the consistency of iron.

            Hedon’s head turned on a swivel, eyeing you down as his arm morphed to swing back at you. His hand came up, and a knife came down, sliding into his eye socket, eliciting a roar of pain. A fountain of red sparks flowed from the wound, the knife lodged in his head with several inches jutting from the back. You tore your swords from him, hacking the wound deeper with each segment. You threw yourself backwards, but not before cutting two more deep lines into his back.

            Strangely, you thought you could see something inside. It was red, matching his eye, and its surface gleamed like a piece of glass. It seemed to beat every now and then, like an irregular heart.

            “Why is it always the eye with you people!?” Hedon grabbed the handle, tearing it out artlessly, leaving the edges of his socket marred. An indefinite cloud of energy swirled in his head, reshaping itself into an eye as the last of the sparks died out. The iris was cracked and the pupil shook, matching the increasingly rabid nature of his snarl and the harsh angles his bends took. “I’ve endured all I can take, and I will tolerate no more!” The darkness of the room became less consuming, but you liked the alternative even less. His hide glowed red, as though soaked in luminescent blood, and the intensity only grew as the gem in his chest pulsed. Its surface shook, and you could almost see something inside it pounding against the walls.

            “Now, children, bear witness to the true strength of _HEDON_!” In a blink, he moved from the far side of the room to scant hairs from your face, giving you only an instant to sidestep out of the way. He passed by without incident, but the raw power radiating from his flesh was disorienting, your vision blurring and your stomach twisting, your skin heating up at an unprecedented rate.

            The effect diminished as he moved farther away, but you weren’t the only thing in that direction to hit. Every shelf he passed released a thin cloud of smoke, and a thick one followed as he collided with the wall. Cracks sprawled out in every direction, but he didn’t stop, his body speeding up the wall and curving to the side. He dropped a claw to tear through the shelf wall. He left a long scrape behind him, the entire divot spewing fire.

            Chara tried to shoot him out of the sky, but he was too fast, every knife hitting only the enflamed wall. Their lack of accuracy was duly rewarded, Hedon kicking off and flying through the air. His hands closed harshly around their wings, cutting off their lift. Gravity ensued, pulling Chara down as Hedon pushed himself away. They hit hard, Chara’s back cracking the floorboards as Hedon landed safely on his feet. Chara coughed heavily, gasping for breath.

            “W H A T…?”

            “Impressive, aren’t I?” Hedon’s glow faded, but the flames it left behind raged on. Only the highest floors of the library remained unlit, the rest succumbing to the ravenous inferno. “Were it not for this plain’s pathetic endurance, I could draw on even greater powers nigh indefinitely, but one must make do with what they have.” He grabbed them by their throat, hauling them up to eye level. “Once more, alas, poor Asriel…!”

            His boasting died in a cloud of blue static, the steel shoulder of Greater Dog bursting through and ramming him against the wall. Hedon caught himself, trying to force his knee into Greater’s gut but being beaten to the punch by another wave of space distorting static. They fumbled, expecting something much harder to be in their way.

            “as much as i don’t like ‘em, i can’t let you kill chara.” A great weight lifted from your shoulders, Sans’s cool voice echoing down from the yet unseeable rafters. A throaty howl backed him up.

            “And now the skeleton joins the fray! Be there no end to the new challengers?” You doubted it, considering how quickly Sans liked dealing with fights, but you would help Undyne be there in spirit. You gripped a sword underhandedly, reeling back and throwing it like a javelin. It struck his leg, piercing from his thigh down through the side of his knee, forcing it to buckle under him. You ran past him, each step lengthened by an electric boost, to the crumpled, half asphyxiated body he stood over seconds before. You slid an arm under theirs, placing yourself under them like a crutch.

            “Can you stand?” Chara’s eyes dimmed, taking on a more natural appearance. You felt a sense of genuine appreciation.

            “Heh, trash bag went and took my wind. I’m good, though, thanks.” You helped them to their feet, keeping your arms out until they could manage to stay upright without swaying like a chopped tree. They shook off their dizzy spell, straightening their wings out with a mighty flap.

            A change in air currents set off alarms in your head. You were about to duck when Chara grabbed you by the arm, another flap of their wings carrying you both into the air, just above the impact of a launched leather fist.

            “And they say hand-to-hand is obsolete.” The straps linking them to Hedon shined for less than a second, but that was all the time he needed to haul his detached hand up like a bullet. Chara tilted their wings to evade, but it wasn’t needed, the bright white hull of a gaster blaster almost blinding you with an unexpected entry. It chomped down, flattening the attack and pulling its ties taut. Hedon tugged as hard as he could, but he only managed to make the blaster’s grip tighter. “Release me, damnable contraption!” He balled up his other hand, wrist flashing once before it rocketed away, only to be stopped by a midair spear. It was pinned to the opposite wall in short order, the smiling dog face engraved on the spear’s head sticking its tongue out at him.

            “Chara, throw me!” They nodded, spinning once and tossing you as hard as they could. You put both hands on the hilt of your sword, palms tingling as you filled its blade with as much DT as it could bear. Hedon fought against his binds, but it wasn’t enough, your sword cleaving through his skin, connecting the parallel wounds from earlier and opening a hole on his side. It was the clearest view of his hollow core you had seen yet, and deep within was the pulsating, red gem.

            “kid, that’s his power source!” Sans’s tip was all the confirmation you needed, your Soul already pumping out more Determination. You directed it all to the sword in your hands, charging the steel until it radiated golden sparks. You turned on your heels, bolting back towards the pinned, exposed Hedon and raising your sword to the sky. He seemed to panic, but it melted away with a cocky grin.

            “Go on then, end this. Shatter my Soul and kill me at once!” Your heart stopped, and your Soul shook in its roost. Your sword froze midair, the energy flow through it destabilizing before stopping entirely. Looking in his eyes, your vision blurred completely, and when it returned, all you could see looking back from the reflection in his iris was the mad, cackling face of the demon. You could hear their whispers in your ears.

            _‘Why are you waiting? He’s standing helplessly before you. Strike the fool down and we can move on to a more worthy foe!’_ Your heart started again, and you backed away, grip loosening on your sword. Your hands clamped around the sides of your head, trying pitifully to hold your sense of self together as your weapon fell, shattering on impact. You followed it down, the horrible pulsing in your brain and the snake in your ear bringing you to your knees.

            “Get out, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” You slammed your forehead to the ground, but it didn’t help, that phantom’s laughter ringing from every cell in your body.

            “Poor, battered child. You’ve suffered much, haven’t you?” You fought against your paralysis, struggling to raise you head. Above you, pulling against chains that bound his shoulders, was a shadowy form. The only thing you could make out were its eyes, its crimson, blood stained eyes. “Allow me to end your suffering.” You tried to stand, to make your legs work if only for a few meager steps, but they refused to move at all as the shadow loomed over you, the color of your world draining away…

            “I thought I already warned you.” A loud bang cracked the illusion before you, a rushed set of blinks returning your consciousness to the waking world. Hedon backed away, step by quivering step, a silver bullet lodged in his gem. “I don’t like egotists like you threatening my patients.” There was a hand on your back, slipping under your arm and pulling you up. Your feet were unsteady beneath you, the blood flow to them only then starting to defrost, but your savior stayed by your side.

            “So, that’s what a debilitating relapse looks like. If nothing else, maybe having witnessed it in person will help me help you. You know, silver lining?” You looked up, Pauly’s collected smile only slightly offset by the bags under his eyes.

            “Heh, haha, HAHAHAHA!” Hedon’s gaze sharpened, every jagged twitch of his failing, falling apart body increasing the intensity of his deranged laughter. “Well done, mortal! To think, brought down by a simple firearm! I’ve learned much today, truly I have.” Pauly sneered, his blue eyes unnaturally cold and spiteful.

            “Too bad you can’t use that knowledge from the grave.” The statement only strengthened his laughing.

            “Don’t you see, this body means nothing. Absolutely nothing! I’ve countless more just waiting in the wings!” He settled his unhinged mirth, but the sadistic gleam never left his eyes. “You survived this day, young Timekeeper, but soon the Sun must set. The time of darkness soon approaches, and I shall be its herald! I am the bane of life, he who marches over a mountain of corpses. I am desire, heir to the pleasures of the world. I am…!” A sharp crack broke his declaration, all eyes falling to the knife dissecting his gem.

            “Too damn loud.” It tore out of his back, his last line of support severing. He shuddered, the light of his eye fading away. It vanished into the air like a puff of smoke, and all life fled his limbs. His body collapsed under its own weight, the tight coils of his limbs falling into piles, the remnants of his core lopsidedly rolling from the husk. A sneaker came down atop the shards, reducing them to dust. Chara scoffed, their sharpened fangs slowly flattening to a more normal state.

            “you know, we could’ve used that.” Sans moseyed out from behind a miraculously still intact bookshelf. His blaster floated around the room carrying Greater Dog, who was spraying down the burning walls with an arm based hose. “a little info about a threat goes a long way, and that stone looked like a lot more than that.”

            “Hell if I know the details, but it was obviously his way of controlling this dolled up straight jacket.” They kicked the fedora, sending it spinning across the floor. “You’re telling me you wanted to risk installing a backdoor in your lab?” Sans paused, eye lights dimming.

            “fair enough. guess i’d need somewhere more secure than a desk drawer to stuff it in first, and it sounds like we’ll have more than enough chances to grab another sample.” You tried your best to follow the conversation, understanding perfectly the weight of what was happening, but even keeping your eyes open was getting difficult. Pauly shook you gently, jolting you out of your half sleep.

            “Say, I think we should find Frisk somewhere to lie down for a bit. Going from mummy to warrior in a day can’t be easy on a kid.” Well, the lure of sleep was making your eyelids far too heavy, but… “I’ve got a bed on the top floor they can crash in. Sans, if you would?” He looked from you and Pauly to Chara, then to Greater.

            “hey, boy, mind keepin’ an eye on the pup there for a sec?” Greater barked, working his spear out from the wall, letting the arm it pinned drift to the ground. “thanks. i’ll throw you a bone later.” You were nodding off again when he put a hand on your shoulder.

            “No, I can hold… hold it. Need to… explain…”

            “nope, no buts. if i let you keep working yourself into the ground like this, tori’d have a bone to pick with me, and there’s nothin’ humorous about that.” He wrapped an arm tightly around your shoulders, showing off just how absurdly sturdy he was for a guy without muscles. “say g’night, kid.” You resigned yourself to your fate, slumping against his shoulder. You couldn’t even wait for a proper bed, your body going limp right where you stood, and you were asleep as soon as your eyes closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, it's been too long since I've made the pacifist try kicking the snot out of someone. Isn't necessity a beautifully sadistic mother? I know, I don't have much room to call anyone else a sadist, but the boot fits.
> 
> Also, yay upcoming Summer vacation! I know my productivity went and died over the break last year, but no more! My writing schedule is set, and I already have the shock collar in place if I fail my task. Like that one episode of Fairly Odd Parents. You know, back when it was still good.


	8. The Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How must it feel, to see the root of evil just beyond one's reach?

            The tension was thick, like a frozen block of poisoned butter. It was like a three way high noon standoff. Doc Paul was in his comfy chair, pen and paper in one hand, a silver coin to flip in the other. Chara was reclining on the patient’s sofa, staring off into space, but I could feel the hard point of their attention right between my eyes. At least they had the decency to not use Asriel’s form, their twisted Hell Angel thing breaking down into the pale, psychopathic human I loved to hate instead.

            “There’s soda in the mini fridge there if you’re thirsty. The air in the library can get pretty dry, and that’s without all the fire.” Heck if I knew how the Doc was staying cool headed and cordial. Got his very expensive book collection blown up, probably ruined his building’s infrastructure, and, to top it off, the kid behind his favorite patients’ mental breakdowns was kicking back on his sofa like they owned the place. I could learn a thing or two about chilling out from the guy. Either that or he was still in utter shock and not responding properly, could be that.

            “No, I’m good.” What, no thanks for offering? I actually had to work to keep my head on straight. The smallest slights from anyone else were magnified by the virtue of being done by the one person I hated most. They’d’ve better been thankin’ their god real hard for being so merciful, not that Frisk was awake to hear it. What? It’s not like any actual deity would back ‘em.

            “You know, the insurance guys are going to need an explanation of what happened in there if I want decent coverage, and it’d be a real help if you dropped me a line.” Chara didn’t move much to answer him, eyes not straying from a random spot on the ceiling.

            “What you already know is all I’ve got. Guy named Hedon came in, said he knew me, and trashed the place before promising he’d be back to do it all again.” They closed their eyes most of the way, but the one closest to me was still cracked. “You get used to that sort of thing hanging out with monsters. It’s like a weird, expensive tradition.”

            “but most of the time it’s you, not leather dude.” The silence that followed said I won the exchange. “as an old pro, you need to let us newbies in on how this stuff works. is there a forces of chaos union, or…?” Their neutral expression shifted into a light scowl.

            “I already told you, Bonehead, the last thing I remember is waking up in the Underground, period. Whatever Chara your new target’s talking about is long dead.” Paul lazily pocketed his coin, jotting down on his notepad for the first time since we sat down.

            “Oh, so you’re an amnesiac. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

            “probably because the last guy they let get deep in their head blasted them into a fine powder a few thousand times.” I would’ve kept a vile of the stuff as a keepsake, but there was never enough time for past Sans to put some in the Reset-proof box between rounds. It’s like they hammered the button as soon as they died, or maybe time outside stopped whenever they were at the controls. It was hard to tell.

            “Sans, I like you, but I’m going to have to ask you to tone down the threats. We’re trying to mend wounds here, not rub dirt into them.” Wait, Doctor “Rainbow Clothes” Pauly had a professional side? He wasn’t even raising his voice, almost like an actual doctor. I wasn’t the only one taken back, Chara’s hardened shell flinching.

            “Hey, you don’t need to grab brownie points from me. You helped Asriel back there for the sake of helping Asriel. Family aside, you’re the last guy I’d put on a ‘to kill’ list.” Welp, that was a comforting thought, considering it’d take, like, five hours for ‘em to wipe out the rest of the population. It was only the ability to disconnect my thoughts and actions that kept my eyes from rolling like race car wheels.

            “My job here is to help Frisk and Asriel through the scars in their hearts. You’re a part of Asriel, which means you’re on the list, too. If there’s a job worth doing, it’s worth doing right.” Still didn’t explain why his first move wouldn’t be an exorcist, not that one’d help much. “I’ll admit, had this been a few months ago, I would’ve been suspicious. I might’ve called a priest or something while I was at it, too, though I’m pretty sure that holy word ritual wouldn’t do much.” Called it.

            “But now, I think we have evidence that you’re not the root cause of the problem.” If I’d been drinking something, I would’ve done a spit take.

            “uh, pretty sure it was chara in both cases. don’t just take my word for it, they admit it, right?’ They nodded, just as lost as me.

            “I got Asriel killed in the past, my bad influence from when he was alive drove him to kill as Flowey, and I was the one pulling the strings when Frisk finished the job. And none of that’s counting the torment I put the others through.” They set a hand over their heart, the outward appearance of remorse draping over them like a heavy cloak. Then it twisted to a muted anger, the darkening of clouds before a tsunami. “How the Hell isn’t everything my fault?”

            “I’ll give you that. The stuff that happened in the Underground _is_ on your shoulders. You’ve done some bad things, and it’s up to you to make amends for and come to terms with your mistakes. Now that we have at least a glimpse into one influence, though, it paints you in a whole new light.” The wires finally met, his reasoning coming through.

            “you think their murder tendencies come from hedon?” Personally, I could see how a ‘friend’ like that could spur it on, but causing it in the first place was a stretch.

            “It’s a proven fact that the influence of a guardian figure is among the leading shaping forces in a child’s life. Hedon’s attitude towards them was one of expectance. He expected obedience. When he didn’t get it, he turned to violence to break them down until they fell into line. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like bad parenting 101 to me.” The focus on me shifted, all the pressure now locked on Paul.

            “But what does that mean for me? For Asriel? Just knowing where all this evil came from won’t make it go away.”

            “That alone, no. Just knowing this one thing is woefully insufficient, but a puzzle needs more pieces than that.” He set his book aside, leaning forward and weaving his hands together by the fingers. “It’ll take a lot of elbow grease, but if we can find more of your past, anything, even the smallest moment of the life you’ve forgotten, I could use it all to work you through your problems. I can help you, but I can only do it if you help me.” He reached a hand forward, his soft, friendly expression radiating all the charm he was capable of. “What do you say?”

            For a while, they didn’t say anything, They tilted their head down, their long hair covering their eyes. Then, they muttered something. I don’t think they knew how quiet they were, though.

            “what was that?”

            “…You can help me?” I was floored, their voice small and meek. When they looked up, there was a certain vulnerability in their eyes that almost made me feel sorry for them. “You can make me more peaceful?” Looking closer, there was something else. Something I could relate to. That first glimmer of hope.

            “You can give Asriel the sibling he _deserved_ from the beginning?” I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. My face was plastered on, a calcium rich mask, but inside I couldn’t tell up from down. Paul’s hand was still sitting there, the offer open.

            “To tell you the truth, I don’t know if I can fulfill your every dream. I don’t know if I can remove that anger in your heart entirely. I don’t know how much I can do. But I give you my word, here and now, if you shake my hand I will put every fiber of my being into finding those limits, beyond if we’re lucky. But I can only uphold my oath if you walk to that edge with me. So…?” Chara’s movements were slow, ponderous, uncertain, looking between him, his hand, and me. Eventually, when they’d pondered enough, they grabbed his hand, but the hold was loose, as though afraid he’d go up in dust with the smallest press. Paul compensated for them, gripping tighter and shaking their hand properly.

            “It’s settled then. I’ll need to work out a slot for you, and a way to get you here without raising suspicion. Two trips a week would be pretty weird for just Asriel, wouldn’t it?” The fragility in Chara’s face vanished, worming back under the skin, replaced by that fire that only a select few could harness.

            “Last I checked, even officially as far as monsters go, it isn’t just Asriel in here, now is it?” A joined lightbulb went off between the two.

            “Yeah, you’re right. And I’m sure at least a few of the others in there with you could actually use someone to talk to. I’d imagine death isn’t easy on the psyche. It’d be a great challenge for me, and we can slip your appointments in the mix. Any volunteers?”

            “Well, the others are still out cold from the fight, spent everything they had on two major transformations, not to mention physical damage repairs. It could take a while to…” Well, I’d heard enough. I still had major doubts about the brat, but I was pretty sure they wouldn’t try anything with an apparently battle ready Frisk just a few floors up. I hopped down from the windowsill, faking a yawn.

            “sounds like you two’ve got some plans to set up. i’d better get outta your hair. need to run damage control for this little venture. telling tori where her kids are, setting up some backup plans, you know how it goes.” I shrugged nonchalantly like it was just my day to day, which it felt like it would be for a while. Paul nodded.

            “Sounds like one heck of a tightrope you’re walking. Sure you don’t want a slot in while I’m at it?” Tempting, but…

            “nah, i’ve had plenty of time to figure my head out. it’s kinda crooked, but it’s mine.” He hummed, clicking his pencil against the spirals on his notepad.

            “I had to try. Good luck with that job of yours.”

            “thanks, but i won’t need luck. i’ve got a shortcut.” I decided to walk the first bit, for recon’s sake. Behind me, Chara hadn’t moved, their back towards me. It was hard to read what they were thinking without a shot of their face, but their muscles were all relaxed. I stepped out the door, closing it slowly behind me. It was a little rude of ‘em to not at least wave me out, but you had to expect them to stumble.

            After all, they were only human.

 

-

 

            The park was real pretty in late spring. Trees were all done waking up, giving each a full complement of leaves, and the flowers were blooming a whole rainbow of colors (except yellow, which disappeared under, uh, mysterious circumstances.) The way the setting sun caught everything gave it this warm glow that couldn’t be beat. Not bad for a bunch of sun illiterate monsters, right? Well, some guys from New Haven helped, but still.

            I popped the last bit of pie in my pie hole, licking my teeth as it disintegrated in my throat. No one could beat Tori when it came to the baked goods, and the fact that it was a sign of me being a good cover story guy made it all the sweeter.

            She was worrying herself sick about Frisk when I got there, but I already had a story all worked out. A little relapse spasm while escorting Asriel to the clinic, a few bumps and bruises from rolling down a hill and falling out of their chair, all topped off with the pleasant surprise of Frisk getting up and walking as good as new when they settled down. I told her they’d be back when Paul had a chance to wrap up the scrapes. Yeah, going behind a good pal’s back like that sucked, but necessary evils and all that. Point was, the end result was about the same, just missing the attack by a freaky leather demon and Chara going ape on its heart.

            My invisible hearing organs perked, the sound of footsteps nearing my cozy, sunlit food stand. I pulled down my jacket sleeve, seeing it was seven thirty, on the dot. A couple came walking down the path right on time. The shorter one wasn’t quite loud enough to hear, but her GF had more than enough lung power to compensate.

            “I know, right!? The guy works with fish all the time, you’d think he’d know that fish eating fish is normal!”

            “uh, a little context here?” They stopped in their tracks, probably not expecting to see me out and about. I gave them a relaxed wave, and Alphys returned it first.

            “Oh, Sans! What are you doing here? Isn’t this when you usually have your afternoon nap?” They apparently saw me as a worthwhile use of precious date night time, parking themselves in front of the stand. How flattering.

            “usually, yeah, but Bunard had a pretty crumby night’s sleep. something about a wicked nightmare. weird that, right?” She nodded shortly, reading my signals perfectly. “i figured hey, you need someone cheery running a nice cream stand, and pap and i could use a little extra gold, so here i am.” Undyne raised an eyebrow, looking more skeptical than ever.

            “Don’t you already make a buttload off your hot dogs and Papyrus’s royal stipend? Why would you need any more cash?” She knew my ways all too well. I looked to the sides, pretending to scan for a certain someone.

            “well, truth be told, i kinda wanna give our blasters some fine tuning, and the parts and scrap aren’t exactly cheap.” Alphys perked up.

            “You know you’re welcome to use whatever I don’t need back at the lab. I told you that years ago.”

            “i know, but these are some real specific, costly parts i need. if you’ve got ‘em, chances are you didn’t get ‘em for any small potatoes. i can pull my own weight from time to time.” Undyne was about to chip in, but I already knew what she’d suggest. “and if i told pap, he’d run himself into the ground to raise the funds. he’s cool like that, but i don’t want him going full blast too much, it’s not healthy. do me a favor and don’t tell him, like it’s a birthday gift or something, ‘kay?” They thought it over, eventually agreeing, doing the zipper mouth thing. Undyne’s eyes popped open, quickly undoing her mouth zipper.

            “Well, if you’re really set on making a check, we might as well make you sweat for it, right?” Alphys looked like she was going to object, but she was pulled into a sideways hug hold before she had a chance. “Two of the most expensive ice creams you’ve got, and make it snappy!” She fished around in her leather jacket’s pocket, throwing her wallet to the counter.

            “you got it. two fudge, caramel, double decker delights comin’ right up.” I pulled a note out of my pocket, running over the directions. “and by right up, i mean it’ll take a few minutes. it’s a complex, ‘heart filled’ recipe, so…” I shrugged, getting right to it. I opened my eyes a bit wider, like I just remembered something. “say, alph, you in the market for anime collectables?” Her eyes went unnaturally sharp, any sense of funny business shriveling and dying in a ditch.

            “Don’t even joke about that, Comic.” I chuckled, forgetting what my first name sounded like out loud.

            “okay, _doctor_. just thought i’d let you know i saw a statue of that armored fella from that alchemy show you like so much.” She gasped, a shock running through her whole body.

            “You mean Alphonse from Fullmetal Alchemist!?” I nodded, bracing for the imminent. “How big? How big is it? And where!?” I counted fingers on my off hand.

            “i’d say about a foot and a half, maybe two, and it’s in that antique shop at the edge of town. heh, guess whoever put it up didn’t know its real value. who’d list something like that for thirty g?” Her squee was almost enough to rattle the in-progress ice cream cones from my hands.

            “Oh my gosh, we’ve got to hurry! It could be gone any minute!” Undyne looked pretty excited herself, but she glanced back my way.

            “What about the ice cream?” Alphys bit her lip, bouncing back and forth from foot to foot. I gave Undyne a knowing shrug. “Okay, here…” She got a fistful of gold from her wallet, dumping it into the pocket of Alph’s dress. “You go and grab it, you’re better at haggling. I’ll be right there when these are done.” Alph’s anticipation was almost palpable. It was heavy, and kind of sweaty.

            “OMG, THANK YOU!” And she was out of there. Seriously, for the insane levels of speed the likes of Dyne and me worked with, Alph could still put up an impressive hustle. Maybe we were rubbing off on her. As soon as her little lady was out of sight, Undyne lost any pretenses, expression going serious and cold.

            “What’s this really about?” My smile widened.

            “don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. just tellin’ my sister about something she might like.” She was less than amused, eyes narrowing.

            “You’re the one who put it up for sale, aren’t you?”

            “i just went that way to pawn off something i accidentally ordered online. get a little cash back for it, you know?” I could see her tensing up at first, but she was able to partially cool down, only looking slightly murderous.

            “Just hurry up with the ice cream, would you?” I nodded, moving on with step twenty three. It was an awfully long process to go through. Bunard was lucky it survived the sun long enough to serve.

            “it’s pretty hot out here, yeah?” She hesitated to engage in small talk, eyes trailing off to the side. “better be careful about putting something important out here, or it might start boiling.” Her ear fins perked, and she glanced back at me. “oh, and you might want to ditch the heavy leather. we don’t need you sweatin’ if things get too hot, right?” Her glance turned into a hard stare. She nodded.

            “Yeah, I’m actually starting to regret it myself. It feels like my scales are swimming.” I gave her a little laugh.

            “of course, that might not be such a bad idea. a cool head might just help you out.” I added the sprinkles to the mountainous twins, completing the frozen confections. “here you go, two of the arctic special for the love birds. that’ll be…” A heap of gold pieces was promptly dumped on the counter. “…a lot less than that.”

            “Call the change a tip. Like the humans say, one good turn deserves another.” It was hard to tell if she was winking or blinking, but the rough message was about the same.

            “if you say so. you should hurry on after her. she might need the extra energy and a few more hands to get her prize home.” She nodded, hefting up the cones, each supporting a lump of ice cream bigger than her head. She broke into the fastest walk she could manage without losing balance.

            I counted out the pieces, one by one. The seventy the ice cream was worth was deposited in the cash register, and the other eight hundred thirty-seven was teleported to a safe in my personal lab. I’d need every ounce I could scrape up. The sudden spurt of generosity was good to see. It meant she knew just how serious I was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd it take me this long to get around to making a Sans chapter? You know, besides the alluring call of internal goat drama. It's almost like Sans is reaching into my brain and shuffling himself to the background as I write. Sneaky little man.


	9. Caprine Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The longer a meeting is held off, the more volatile its subject becomes.

            The first thing I knew was that my head was throbbing, a snare drummer paddling just behind my eyes. My arms were heavy and unresponsive as I flopped them in the general direction of my face, massaging the sides of my skull with the dull edge of my claws. Every thought was like a glob of thick oil passing through my brain. Is that what a hangover was like? If it was, then I could honestly say I had no interest in alcohol. Ever.

            _‘You finally awake?’_ Chara had the decency to keep their internal voice soft.

            _‘What the heck happened?’_ I couldn’t remember anything, the memories lost somewhere in the twisted labyrinth of my mind.

            _‘We were at Doctor Pauly’s place, in his library. That ringing any bells?’_ Oh, right, my appointment. Going by their past tense, it was already too late to actually have a session, but what happened between A and B? I remembered browsing his books for a little bit, and then something about leather…

            _‘The creature!’_ I shot up, only a lack of feeling in my legs keeping me from launching into a standing position. A thin blanket fell to my waist, and, looking down, I was in red and white, vertically striped pajamas. I recognized them as my favorite set, the smooth silk never getting caught on my fur. _‘What happened to…?’_

_‘You can cool it, we got Hedon to split. Just stop breathing so hard and I’ll explain.’_ I could feel Determination filling the lining of my lungs, forcing their pace to even out. By the time I managed to quell my panic, I noticed that there was a light blue tint to my breath.

            _‘Mr. Asriel, weren’t we just fighting a leather monster?’_ I nodded slowly, the pieces still not quite fitting together.

            _‘Yeah. You were holding up pretty well, too, Sherri.’_ I thought a compliment would help her like it helped me, but I could feel the energy around her Soul thickening in heavy thought anyway.

            _‘…Did we die again? I mean, it’s about that dark…’_

_‘No, we’re still very much alive. Here.’_ In a blink, the room went from total darkness to multiple shades of red, letting me make out the frame of my bed. _‘Oh, wait, this isn’t triggering anything, right?’_ I shook my head, the only throbbing up there coming from the horrible wakeup. Looking around, I quickly found that we were in my room in Ebott, Frisk’s sleeping body making a bump in their all encompassing blanket.

            _‘Yeah, you guys burnt all your energy when you relapsed. The only reason I could keep fighting was because I had the know how to disconnect from the circuit when it started draining too much DT. Pauly gave us a ride home after we put all the fires out…’_

_‘Fires!?’_ Since when did big leather thing equal fire?

            _‘I’ll have to fill you in on the battle itself in a bit, but first you should know I had to cover for you with Mom. She doesn’t know any fighting happened, so don’t mention it, she doesn’t know I’m in here, so don’t mention me, and you guys had lemon pie last night for dinner, so be sure to grab a slice from the fridge for breakfast incase it comes up in conversation. Need me to repeat any of that?’_ I rubbed my eyes, confused but glad nothing too horrible happened while I was out, at least not that they were hinting at.

            _‘I think he got it.’_

_‘Cool. Oh, and one more thing, Frisk is…’_ There was a rustling at the other side of the room, a much heavier set of covers getting slid down the other bed. Frisk’s head poked lazily out of the makeshift den, clearly still half asleep until they saw me.

            “Asriel?” They shifted under their covers, pushing the blanket away as quickly as their freshly waken up body could. Then their movements slowed with a thought. “Or is it…?”

            “No, no it’s me. It’s Asriel.” Their vigor was renewed, working at the blankets once more. “I think I heard you back in the library, didn’t I? Did you get hurt…?” My thought trailed off, the distinct lack of casts on their arms and legs taking me by surprise. “Didn’t you still have a few months left?” They ignored my question entirely, a bright, controlled bolt of lightning propelling them to my bedside, arms clamping down around me with the strength of a hundred angry skeletons. I’m not sure, but I think my lungs squeaked like a rubber duck. Either way, Frisk’s grip loosened, but they were still latched on tight.

            “Knew you’d be alright, but…” I could feel their posture droop, and their hands clenched down on my shirt like a big handle. It was like they never wanted to let me go again. I found myself smiling softly, returning their hug.

            “I thought you’d be better at lying after knowing me this long.” They gave me a light laugh, though it was more out of relief than humor. Maybe it was just those strong emotions of theirs shining through the deception, or something rosy like that.

            For a while, I thought I was on the verge of tears, but after a few minutes without, I realized it was my body’s way of telling me it wasn’t rested yet. I glanced at our bedside clock, the time exactly three A.M.

            “Hey, Frisk? Maybe we should get back to bed. Life and death battle or no, we still have school in the morning.” They sighed, grasp tightening for a moment before letting go. They backed up, and I finally saw what condition they were in, heavy bags under their eyes and a few trails of tears running over them before they wiped them away with their sleeve.

            “‘Kay, but still have to talk later. Chara was… vague.” My expression flattened.

            _‘Seriously?’_

_‘They had another one of their relapses, and I didn’t know if talking to me too much would cause another. Last I checked, you don’t give an insomniac caffeine at midnight.’_ I rolled my eyes, even though their explanation did make some sense.

            “Can we go one week without getting smacked by this timeline garbage?” Frisk shrugged, no closer to an answer than me. They patted me on the shoulder, trying to lift my spirits with a smile.

            “Night, bro.” No matter how down I was, resisting their earnest heart was all but impossible. I managed to return the smile.

            “Night, sib. Make sure to bundle up, don’t need you rolling out of your sheets and opening anything back up.”

            “Yes, _Mom_.” The sarcasm rang a bell.

            “Wait, did you just hold a grudge?” They didn’t even respond physically, throwing their blankets over their head and burying themselves out of view. I didn’t know whether I should be impressed or disturbed by the sudden taste and execution of vengeance, so I went with flabbergasted.

            _‘Papyrus help us if they drop the pacifism.’_ I was almost relieved when the stirring of energy in my chest changed the subject.

            _‘Guys? I think the others are waking up.’_ Well, it looked like it was time to get explanations out of the way on that end at least. There weren’t many chances to talk to them all at once, so we couldn’t pass this one up.

            _‘Do you think you remember enough to explain to them?’_ Chara’s Soul radiated a weighted aura of uncertainty.

            _‘I still don’t remember jack, but hopefully new developments will be enough.’_

 

-

 

            The meeting ground was easy enough to decide. While my body rested, our projections congregated under the Souls, settling on the platform under Terry’s. It was still damaged from her time in the Underground, its green surface dulled and stained in places with dust, but the Determination it gave off remained a pacifying influence. Hopefully it would suppress any conflict before it could begin.

            We had everyone line up in a ring, making it more like a talk between equals than a lecture from a professor. I made certain that John was on the exact opposite end from Chara, with Bill to their left and me on their right. It wasn’t that great a feeling, setting up a bodyguard system to keep order, but there were enough admittedly valid complaints to make it necessary, and it was less a matter of protecting Chara from aggression than one of making sure Chara wasn’t forced into responding to it personally. When everyone was settled in, they started explaining what happened after we lost consciousness.

            “…I went about the rest of the day pretending to be Asriel. We had dinner, I went to bed, and you all finally snapped out of it a short while ago.” Chara stopped, and silence ruled, the weight of our current situation hanging over us like a chandelier on a rusted chain. Bill looked over the group, deciding the quiet was getting too oppressive.

            “Well, either way, at least we know we can take this Hedon jerk, right? We round up the rest of Ebott and he’s as good as a new pair of shoes!” The positivity was appreciated, but…

            “Your reasoning if flawed.” John’s eyes were distant, comparing Bill’s plan to the problem at hand. “We’re assuming he can only control one body at a time. If he can control the several he claims to have at once, each with the same amount of power, then we may be woefully outclassed.”

            “Then there’s the problem of them not actually being Hedon.” Sherri was tapping her fingers together, the repetitive action helping her think. “If we want to stop the attacks, we’d need to first find where he is, and if he’s telling the truth, he’s even stronger in person.” Cliff scratched his hair.

            “There’s always a chance he’s bluffin,’ right? How many so-called invincible guys has your group gotten through?” I huffed, every good idea coming with a rotten underbelly, and I could comment on this one’s.

            “The worst one so far just got thrown to the dirt by one of his puppets, and everything I could do to him either didn’t last long or turned around to bite us.”

            “But that only happened ‘cause you couldn’t hold yourself together.” Where most of us were getting melancholic as time passed, Bill only got more frustrated. “As soon as Chara took over, we started kicking his ass flat! Why not do that from the start?”

            “And announce to the world that I’m in here?” Chara was quiet, but their tone was sharp. “As soon as everyone outside our confidential circle hears about the serial killer rising again, we all get a target painted on our heads. You all get hunted down for harboring me, Sans and Frisk get their names dragged through the mud, if not worse, for hiding me, and we’ll be forced to choose between killing everyone that comes after us and getting killed again. You know, kill or be killed?” A collective chill ran down all our spines. The orange Determination around us shook, the curves in its streams going jagged.

            “God DAMNIT!” Bill’s projection nearly detonated, his skin breaking and releasing thick jets of Determination. The initial blast lowered into a jagged offshoot of his body, like his rage was taking a physical form. “Why the Hell can’t we do anything!? Why are we just sitting around with our thumbs up our asses while that bastard’s toying with us!?”

            “Billy, please…!” Sherri leaped to his side, wrapping herself around his arm and doing her best to pull him down. He looked her in the eyes, his anger fading away. He stared at the ground, fists clenched.

            “It’s… I just…” He grunted, dropping to his butt, slouching over with his hands over his face. “I just feel so useless.” Lily abandoned her spot in the circle, going to his side and setting a friendly hand on his back.

            “Now Bill, we all know you’re anything but. Why, I’d bet if you had a body of your own, you would already be hunting this brute down and showing him what for.”

            “And I’d be there with ya.’” Cliff stayed where he was, but he was no less genuine for it. “The things I’d give to jam a size fifteen boot up his derrière.” Bill at least smiled, but his mood wasn’t any better, letting Lily help him to his feet.

            “We’ve already charged headfirst into Hell once, and I for one don’t mind doing it again for something worthwhile, but the fact is that we don’t have our bodies. We’re just borrowing Az’s, and that’s…”

            “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Everyone stopped talking, all eyes turning to me. Even Chara didn’t see it coming. Heck, I wasn’t sure if I had the guts to bring it up, but it just forced its way out when it saw the chance, and I didn’t see any reason to stop. “I know how to get you all new bodies. Not your old ones, but perfectly serviceable ones.”

            “Asriel, what are you…?” One look in Chara’s eyes made them stop. They knew me better than anyone, and I didn’t need a mirror to see the oceans of guilt hiding just beneath the surface. I could feel it raging under my skin anyway.

            “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and after all I’ve done, I don’t have the right to make you stay, so I want you to know there’s another option.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. It landed like a stone in my stomach. “Alphys bound a monster’s Soul to a mechanical suit to make Mettaton, and those have next to no survivability outside a viable body. If anything, doing the same with a human Soul would be child’s play for her.” Bill’s brows jammed together, an indescribable, dark expression on his face.

            “What’re you getting at here?”

            “I’m saying if you don’t want to be a part of all this anymore, I’m giving you a way out.” I avoided eye contact, afraid of what I’d see. “I’d fund all the parts you’d need personally, and after it’s all over, you’d never need to speak with me again. It’s a free pass to leave, to lead your own lives again, no strings attached.”

            “But… don’t we need each other?” Sherri’s question was soft, uncertain. “It was us coming together that woke us up in the first place, so couldn’t splitting up make us dormant again?”

            “That’s the only real reason I had for not telling you all this earlier, right from the start, but now we have proof to say that’s wrong. Chara said we all drained ourselves dry going all out, and they used the last of the power we had in my body to finish the fight. After that, all we had was Chara’s Determination. All seven of you survived on one Soul’s DT output. That means a lack of extra DT isn’t another death sentence.”

Sherri tried worming her way into my field of view, but I turned away.

            “Not for us, but what about you?”

            “Don’t worry about me, or about Flowey. As long as Chara’s in here, Flowey wouldn’t dream of messing up again. They’re the one person he trusts and respects. He’ll be leashed when I’m gone, so don’t…”

            “YOU MORON!” My stomach compressed, and I flew back first off the edge of the platform, landing on the lowered walkway between it and the center. If I had to breath in there, I would’ve had the wind knocked out of me, but as it stood all I was left with was a sore back and a burning impact wound on my gut. Standing over me, fists clenched and teeth bared, was Chara. Their eyes were shaking violently, and everyone backed away from them in either caution or fear. The pain subsided, and red hot fury took its place, but I forced myself to restrain it, pushing myself up on my elbows.

            “What the heck’d you do that for?”

            “I’m the one asking questions here.” They jumped down after me, and before I could back away, they grabbed me by the collar, dragging me up to eye level and wrapping their hands around my throat, a little pressure away from throttling me. “What the Hell do you think you’re doing?” Their explosive anger compressed into a cold, sharp edge in their voice, one they pushed against my neck without hesitation.

            “I’m trying to give them back their lives. I’m trying to give them a chance to be happy again.”

            “What about your life?” Their grip tightened, unafraid of digging in deep. “What about your right to happiness?” Their scowl deepened with every word, pupils dilating into hard, focused spotlights.

            “I gave it up two decades ago.” I grabbed their wrists, putting all my energy into one compression that forced their fingers open. My feet dropped to the floor, and I held their hands over their head and struggled against them as they tried to regain their leverage. “ _We_ gave it up. Don’t you remember? I chose to be killed when _you_ tried to slaughter a human village. Innocent humans that had _nothing_ to do with monster kind’s imprisonment.” A hard ball of guilt constricted my chest, using their past against them, but I didn’t have any choice.

            “I know where you’re coming from, I really do. In your shoes, I’d be doing the same thing, but from where I’m standing, I see one monster that chose to die being weighed against six humans that were thrown into their graves without their consent. It’s neither of our places to make them stay there, no matter how much it hurts us.”

            “Us? What about your kingdom!?” Their knee came up, landing squarely in my stomach. My hands faltered, and they tore theirs away, bringing their right fist down across the side of my head. “What about your family!?” They caught my chin with a left upper cut, throwing me off balance, stumbling backwards with blurry vision and a cracked jaw. “What about Frisk!?” They clasped down on my ears, yanking me forward into a head butt. Our skulls struck each other with the force of wrecking balls. Their form was indistinct, blurred by their rampant emotions, only their eyes crystal clear.

            “They just got you back, you just started getting your life in order, and now you’re throwing it away for a garbage moral high ground? Do you have any idea how selfish that actually is?” Something inside me snapped, and my heart caught fire. The gentle streams of DT that surrounded us grew tumultuous, raging like the sea during a hurricane. My vision focused, and I felt my projection flaring in rage.

            “Open your stupid eyes!” I swatted down on their shoulders with each hand, my claws leaving deep gashes in their energy based flesh. They let go of my ears and tried to retreat, but I gave chase, refusing to let them get more than a foot away. “They made it by just fine for years without me!” I lashed out again, only nicking the tip of their chin, leaving three thin lines behind. “If anything, I’m just another burden for them to worry about, a walking sign of what they did to humans in the past just waiting to be uncovered, all the while Frisk is risking every good thing they have keeping you a secret!” I slashed wildly, cleaving through the skin of their chest.

            “They’d be better off if I wasn’t here!” I poured all of my speed into one last dash, grabbing the thickest lock of their hair and dragging them towards me, returning their gut shot from earlier. I pulled with one hand just as hard as I pushed with the other, holding them in place and keeping my fist planted as deeply as I could manage in their stomach.

            “As for these guys, when you came back, you asked me specifically if the dead could get any sleep around here. You meant it as a joke, already decided that you wanted to help me. It was your call. If you really hate my choice so much, then go ahead. Turn around, face them, and tell them how much they don’t _deserve_ the chance to choose. Tell them how little they really mean to you.” They fought to even look me in the eye, a solution of unbound rage and indescribable horror painting theirs.

            “Show them how cold and heartless you are, just like when you made the same call with Frisk.”

            As soon as I uttered their name, raw hatred took over, their body reducing to a jagged mound of bestial energy. They struck with punch after punch, even managing a few kicks, before I had to release my hold on them, joining them in the uncontrolled melee. It all blurred together in my mind, a series of giving and taking as many attacks as we could handle, trying with mindless desperation to beat each other into a pulp so we could scrawl our piece of mind into whatever was left.

            Suddenly, my arms stopped responding, locked behind me as the distance between us grew. Behind Chara, I made out hints of orange and light blue energy that they writhed endlessly to try to escape. My head was yanked back, a yellow arm wrapped around my neck.

            “Asriel, that’s enough! That’s enough!”

            “Chara, snap out of it, man!”

            The more I fought to free my arms, the more they fought to keep me bound. There was someone on each side dragging me back on top of Cliff hauling me by the neck. I opened my mouth, hoping I could get them to let go, but all that came out was a rough, wolfish snarl. My line of sight with Chara was cut off, a green figure taking their place.

            “Stop this already!” Her voice resonated in my ears, the unfamiliar sound stopping me out of sheer bewilderment. In all the time she had been there, Terry had never raised her voice. “You two are better than this! You’re friends, siblings, you love each other, but look at yourselves. Trying to kill each other won’t solve anything! All it will do is make us more divided.” Part of me wanted to listen to her. Part of me understood her points and agreed wholeheartedly, but the rest couldn’t. The rest of me demanded compliance, demanded respect. If Chara wouldn’t listen, then I had to…

            A new light intruded my line of sight, drawing my attention upwards. From above, Determination fell like rain, and when the drops hit my skin, I could feel the energy inside me calming. A soothing wave came over my mind, leaving behind only the shadows of its golden light. The anger that I had been so ensnared in faded away, leaving me to collapse under my own weight. The bar around my neck fell away, moving to hold me up by the chest.

            “Whoa there, buddy, get your feet under you.” My limbs felt like bags full of sand, limp and imprecise. I could barely get my legs to stay straight enough to hold me up. Across the way, Chara had settled down, too, remorse glazing over their eyes.

            “Asriel, I…” Their head dipped, hair blocking their eyes. “You’re right. It’s not my place to say.” Their tone was vulnerable, weak, unrecognizable. “Just… remember what you’re really leaving behind. Remember that you’re not the only one that stands to lose something precious.” Their body glowed brightly, fading away into a cloud of smoke. They flowed upwards, retreating to their Soul and leaving Bill arm barring empty air.

            “Chara…!” Cliff grabbed my wrist, spinning me around to look him in the eye.

            “Listen, Az, siblings have these sorts of tough spots every now and then. Best thing to do right now is for the both of you to simmer down and try talkin’ it out later.” Behind him, Lily nodded, probably from sharing his experience. I wanted to respond, maybe a thanks or pointing out how they didn’t turn into hideous DT beasts when they fought, but it all turned to dust on my tongue. “See what I mean? Just let that lump digest for a spell. I’ll see if I can get a word in with your buddy when they come back out.” I glanced over my shoulder, hoping that ‘when’ didn’t actually mean ‘if.’

            “You want my advice?” I turned around on limp legs. Bill grabbed my shoulder, delivering a swift, hard punch to my ribs. I doubled over in pain, the adrenaline shields from before well and truly gone.

            “Billy!”

            “What? He had it comin’.” He shook me straight like a piece of paper, looking at me directly. “Listen, I know I bring it up a lot, but back on the street, peeps have to look out for each other. One guy you know you can trust to keep your back safe is the most valuable thing you could have, dig?” I nodded, too dazed to do anything else.

            “Well, how would you feel if that one guy you trusted flaked out on you?” My brain drunkenly put his words together, and when it finally sank in, my entire frame of reference shifted.

            “Oh gosh…” I slapped a hand against my face, covering my eyes. I promised to be their rock, someone they could come back to, and now I was offering to essentially kill myself and leave them with an emotionless, thorny weed. “Why does trying to be the good guy have to be so hard?”

            “I think it’s more like you’re trying to be a good guy to too many peeps. Spreading the resources thin, you know?” Bill let his rough hold go, pulling me into a bone crunching sideways hug. “Good thing you’ve got, like, seven more hearts of resources in here to back you!” He might’ve been rough around the edges, and his way of getting a message across was even rougher, but Bill was actually spot on when it counted. I laughed through the growing soreness in my everything.

            “You know, you’re smarter than you look.” His self satisfied grin was as bright as an orange headlight.

            “You know it, man!” His grin vanished as his brain started working, gears turning at double strength. “Yo, man, that’s kinda backhanded.” A light, half covered laugh followed.

            “But he’s not wrong.”

            “Share!” The laughter rolled in from all sides. It was small, measured, as weighted down by the oppressive tension in the room as its sources, but it helped take my mind off the dilemma I’d stumbled into, if only for a few seconds. The room soon fell quiet again, leaving me standing there with my tangled mess of thoughts. Cliff wore his concern on his sleeve, glancing between me and the others.

            “Say, fellas, how about we talk this out with each other, let our host get some actual shut eye?” There was a general murmur in response, but the tone was one of agreement. Cliff floated forward, tugging me up off the floor. “C’mon, I’ll get you back to the controls. Don’t really have a Soul in here to put you in, so…” He shut his mouth with a harsh snap, stumbling over his words when he realized what he just said. The last thing I wanted was any more discomfort floating around.

            “Thanks, you’ve been a big help.” His nervousness was buried by a forced, but still genuine smile. I put one on to match, the difference being how well practiced mine was. At least being Soulless let me pick up a few tricks.

 

-

 

            Between slipping back into my body and falling to actual sleep, there was a small period of awareness of the outside world. I knew something happened from the golden DT rain earlier, but I was still caught off guard when I found Frisk was still right there, arms around me, a hand over my heart. My skin under their touch was still tingling from the transfer of Determination, even though the process ended some time ago.

            Looking over to their bed, the sheets were thrown aside without a care for where they landed, most of their heavier top blanket on the floor. Their position on my bed was just as rushed, their body resting on the narrow space between me and the ledge without any attempt to work into my blankets. From what my hazy, half asleep mind could put together, I concluded that they must’ve seen some physical reactions from Chara and I fighting and hurried over to help.

            A warm feeling spread through my chest, one of intense gratitude. Carefully as to not wake them up, I scooted closer to the wall, bringing them with me so they weren’t as close to rolling off. I jimmied the blanket out from under them, setting it down over them. There was a sigh of comfort, their head burying into the pillow. My debt relayed, at least in part, I closed my eyes, ignoring how weird two siblings sharing a bed might look to passersby. I fell into a peaceful sleep, the presence of someone I knew I could trust warding away my nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be a delay in the next few chapters. As much as I hate breaking the schedule of writing I've so carefully constructed, my wrists are currently screaming at me. Yeah, there's some pretty awful soreness there, and any typing is aggravating the issue. I should be ready to write again by this time next week, but, in the meantime, I am all out of backup chapters to lean on. If there's a hiatus in the near future, you now know why. Sorry, but I really don't want to risk my hands swelling up like eggplants.


	10. A Change of Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine hands, one mask between them. You can only hog Halloween for so long.

            _‘Wake up, Frisk, it’s six-thirty.’_ A pulse of raw Determination flowed through you, an infusion several times stronger than coffee. You felt your joints warming up, each manually popped by phantasmal hands. Having an extra temporal and dimensional alarm clock beat the regular screeching variety any day.

            _‘Morning, Gaster. Miss anything?’_

_‘Let’s see, no one entered within ten feet of the house from shut eye to sunrise, there have been no disturbances in the borders of our world, and Toriel checked in on you once. She seemed equal parts amused and touched.’_ Huh, that was notably less times than usual. Maybe she was starting to get used to Asriel being around.

            _‘No Sans shenanigans?’_

_‘Oddly, and it’s odd in and of itself that I’d call it odd, no. There were no teleportation contrails after nine minutes past dusk.’_ Lately, he’s been noticeably more active. It was nice seeing him caring again, and him taking some of what would otherwise be your load off was well appreciated, but you felt the need to keep an eye on him. He acted in pure reason, and there was no telling what he could do now that he cared. The leash was off, so someone had to watch him. You felt uncomfortable about it at first, but then you remembered that he did the same to everyone else.

            When your body was as awake as it was getting, you tried getting up, but there was extra weight pressing your arm to the bed. You were about to question it, but then you remembered what your half asleep, midnight self did. Your noon self would’ve done the same, though. Come to think of it, who wouldn’t jump to Asriel’s aid when he started freaking out?

            You opened your eyes, coming face to face with your still sleeping brother. Well, more accurately, his neck, as you didn’t want to be right next to his face. Part because you didn’t know if he had the instincts to bite during a relapse, part because you didn’t want to find out how pleasant being breathed on while you slept was, and part because of how awkward that could’ve gotten. One wrong shift during the night was all it would take, especially with an extended snout like his. But that didn’t happen, he was calmed down, and it was time to get moving.

            “Hey, Az, get up.” You jimmied your arm around, knowing a disturbance on what he was laying on would work the best. That didn’t, however, mean you expected his eyes to open instantly. The eyelids were barely parted like the usual first wake up, but the eyes behind them were fully awake. You could feel him shaking around you, trying to move but not managing to go all the way.

            “Frisk, something’s wrong.” Your heart constricted, his call for help combining with your preexisting suspicion to bring your DT to a low boil. You pulled your arm free, hopping out of bed and to your feet to get a better view of his whole body. It all jittered and twitched, falling shy of full movement. “I can’t…”

            Your hand latched onto his forehead, lines of Determination trailing into him. His internal energy streams were unnaturally cold and still, but everything else was in the right place. You forced your body to calm down, letting your consciousness wander more freely. In this state, no DT construct could allude your prying eye. First stop, to make sure his ‘power supply’ was running.

            _‘Anyone here?’_

_‘Is that Frisk?’_ Just by speaking up, Cliff discarded your first, and most troubling, theory. _‘Thank goodness, I think there’s something wrong down our way.’_

_‘Clearly. The child is normally far more warm hearted than this.’_ You could feel Cliff’s Soul shivering.

            _‘Goodness gracious! How the heck’s a_ voice _so dang cold!? Makes it feel like the North Pole in here.’_

_‘Oh, apologies. My presence is permanently infused with a portion of the End, which means…’_ It was then that you heard teeth chattering, Gaster’s influence affecting Asriel’s physical form. _‘…I’ll be silent now.’_ You let your Soul open wide, sharing your DT freely and helping warm things up. Sure enough, every drop you added brought the color back to the streams. It could only mean a shortage.

            _‘Did something happen to make him lose heart?’_

            “Chara…”

            _‘Yeah, that’d do it. See, Az tried offering us a new set of bodies of our own, long story, but it ended with the two getting in a little scuffle.’_ You raised an eyebrow for many reasons, the most pertinent of which was the misuse of the word ‘little.’ _‘Okay, so it was a full on brawl, okay? Point is, they got in a fight and it hit the kid pretty hard.’_

            You sighed, again for no one thing. You had suspected the road forward would be a bumpy one for them, one that had been suspiciously smooth for some time, but the last place you expected the difficulty to stem from was a division in ideologies.

            _‘Talk about it this afternoon. Now, we need a fix. Can’t stream DT all day.’_ Even you had your limits after all. _‘Maybe call in sick and get Alphys? She’d write a note.’_

“Wouldn’t she find…?” You rubbed your spare hand over Asriel’s shoulder, trying to relax his body. He was too stiff to properly speak for long. You nudged Cliff for an expansion.

            _‘I think he’s worried she’d find Chara camping in here.’_ A stunted nodding of his head confirmed the idea. _‘Normally, they could make like a shadow and fade out of view, but they’re less than with it right now. We can’t tell if any messages are gettin’ in, and if they aren’t, the sick day check-up would blow our cover.’_ And if Alphys found out, Undyne would follow, and, as much as you liked her, you knew she’d jump into action against any perceived threat. Chara was at the top of the watch list, so calming her down was a slim possibility.

            _‘What if someone else in there took over and pretended to be Asriel for a day?’_ Gaster’s suggestion was thrown out as quickly as he could think, keeping his influence on their internal state minor. The idea was promising, but only if someone could pull off the charade. A slip up around monsters could be worked around, but one human figuring it out would expose monster kind’s greatest, most horrible secret, and relations between the two species would forever suffer. Whoever it was, their act had to be perfect. Maybe Lily, using her knowledge in performance, or John could probably recount Asriel’s quirks on the fly after observing him for so long, or…

            _‘I’ve got this.’_ You were taken by surprise, Cliff’s certainty going against your calculations. Behind Bill and his impulses, Cliff’s thick western accent and bluntness would be the worst set of personality traits to emulate the softness and underlying timidity you needed. _‘Here, just give me a trial run. We’ve got some time for me to prove myself, right?’_ You supposed so, and your life was built around a series of pleasant surprises, so who was to say he couldn’t pull it off?

            _‘Okay, Asriel, can you let Cliff take over?’_ He gave you a small smile, letting his eyes close under their own weight. Inside, you could feel his energy shifting in major ways. A presence, similar to a Soul but far less solid, came into existence in the center of his head, drifting down through his neck and into his chest. It gently nudged one of the firmer masses there out of its spot, letting it float up along the presence’s earlier route. The Soul stopped where its predecessor had entered, its physicality spreading out and weaving into whatever unseen fold laid there. When it was one with the streams, no longer just a contributor, Asriel’s eyes opened.

            His muscles twitched again, making you afraid the plan was a bust, until he managed to flop from his side onto his back. He pushed himself up and out of bed, spine popping with every few inches of progress. With one last grunt, he settled into a sitting position, a hand coming up and rubbing his neck.

            “Gosh, I didn’t think you could get so stiff. Hey, Frisk, do we have any aspirin?” You hummed, pleasantly surprised indeed. Cliff’s accent and rough tone were gone, replaced by a slightly scratchy, but otherwise accurate mimicry. There were, however, two scruples.

            “You’d use ‘golly’ in this context, not ‘gosh.’” He nodded, looking at you directly to show how seriously he took the correction, but it only managed to emphasize the other problem. You opened his bedside drawer, finding a hand mirror tucked under his industrial strength claw filer. You brought it up to his face. “See the problem here?”

            It didn’t take more than a glance for your meaning to become clear. He poked at his face, gently opening his eyelids with the tips of his nails. No matter how he looked, those irises weren’t looking any less yellow, a far cry from the natural red of the Dreemurr family.

            “And I thought red eyes were freaky.” He closed them, squinting uncomfortably hard. “I think I’ve seen Az morphin’ enough to fix this. Just need to relax a little, and…” His eyelids were drawn tight, the skin around them pulling outwards and eliminating the wrinkles and folds of the membranes. He let out a sigh, opening them again and looking expectantly in the mirror.

            Unfortunately, they were still just as yellow. He groaned, flopping back on the mattress. His ears bounced on impact, the left flipping up over his eyes. He tried to blow it out of the way, but it was a fruitless effort, one he quickly gave up. You smiled warmly, gently brushing it down for him.

            “At least you took out the bags under the eyes.”

            “Yep, might as well look good as I blow our cover.” You set a hand on his shoulder, clicking your tongue as you thought.

            “…What if we say there was a magic accident?” You normally didn’t like saying a plan out loud until it was finished, but this time it seemed to have helped, the idea coming together quicker when you started talking. “Just tell Mom Asriel had a time relapse and that you needed to sub for him, then have her vouch for the story at school.” You slid a hand under his back, pushing him back up into a sitting position.

            “Lying to her to lie to everyone else. How many layers of dishonesty do we have going again?” You bitterly counted them in your mind. Humans, barring Brutus, didn’t know about the Soul War, humans and monsters didn’t know about Flowey or the time based mayhem, and only a select few of your closest friends had any idea that Chara was still around.

            “Three, and I might’ve missed a few.”

_‘No, that’s correct, I double checked.’_ Cliff shook his head, somewhere between bemused and disappointed.

            “Guess we don’t have much choice, at least if we want to keep the peace.” You nodded, relieved to not have to hold up the charade on your own. Cliff breathed in deep, clapping his hands together and jumping to his feet. “Well, we should get moving. There’s a long day ahead.” He glanced back at you, his smile wide and friendly. “Hey, I think I smell pancakes! Golly, I am pretty hungry.” You couldn’t help but snicker at the speaking practice, even if it was almost dead on.

 

-

 

            You were accompanied down the stairs by the smell of breakfast, thick clouds of sugar and cinnamon wafting through the house. Cliff was in too much of a hurry to say he was with you, nearly running ahead of your more relaxed pace. Breakfast wouldn’t up and disappear if you weren’t moving at breakneck speeds. You didn’t think he could eat that fast at least. He could certainly move fast, though, rounding into the kitchen before you could hit the last step.

            “Morning, Mom! Are those pancakes I smell?” You showed up just behind him, arriving in time to see Mom applying the finishing touches, topping each of the three stacks before her with a dollop of whipped cream.

            “Why yes, they are. Do not fret, I have not forgotten the chocolate chips. The bag is in on the table so you can choose how many you…” She turned around, a plate in each hand, and smiled at us before stopping dead in her tracks. One look in Cliff’s discolored eyes was all she needed to raise a red flag. “Um, would it be rude to ask who I am speaking to?” He deflated a little, throwing down an annoyed finger snap.

            “Darn, thought I had my Asriel act all shined up.” It was well hidden, but you could still see the telltale shifting of a nervous gulp in Mom’s throat. She hid it with a mildly forced smile and chuckled to herself as his normal accent gave away his identity.

            “You were rather convincing, Cliff, it is just that Boss monsters only have red eye coloration. Consider it a form of verifying birthmark linked to our unique Soul composition.” The room became uncomfortably quiet. You glanced back and forth between them, trying to figure out why.

            _‘You know this is the first time she’s spoken to one of the fallen humans since their return, yes?’_

_‘Wait, seriously?’_ You’d have figured that would be one of the first items on the agenda, reintroduction. _‘Why put it off for so long?’_

_‘Probably some combination of a less than ideal parting to talk about in all six cases and the possibility of having to talk to Asgore at some point shortly after. And that’s all without factoring Asriel himself into the situation.’_ Well, it had to happen eventually, and if you needed to push things a little to get the ball rolling, so be it. First of all, breaking the ice. You coughed, reminding them that you were standing right there.

            “Asriel had a relapse last night. Not quite over it yet, so someone had to substitute.” Mom nodded slowly. She was about as lost with all this Determination, time travel stuff as anyone else, but she could understand the ramifications of a distorted Soul well enough.

            “Well then, should we call Doctor Alphys? I am certain she could help, and if not, Sans might…” She bit her lip, quickly remembering the tension between him and Asriel. “On second thought, Alphys should be enough.” You shook your head.

            “Should pass on its own soon. Trying to push recovery only makes it worse.” She looked hesitant, but she couldn’t argue. You were the only other person in the room with firsthand experience in the field, so fighting against a confident claim was a poor idea at best. She hurried over to the table, remembering what she was still carrying your breakfast.

            “We will still need some excuse for the eye color change. Even if some do not know the inherent meaning of Boss monster eye color, there will still be questions about such a striking alteration.”

            “Oh, we’ve already got an idea there.” Cliff grabbed the last plate of pancakes, breaking back into the conversation on a polite note. “We were just gonna tell everyone that a bit of cosmetic magic testing went wrong and left my eyes like this. It should do the trick, especially if we have an authority figure back us up.” He winked at her, as though the implication wasn’t clear enough.

            “Alright, if the topic comes up, I will be certain to echo your claim. We should all make sure we stick to the story at hand, as any differences in our accounts could raise suspicion.” You nodded, ignoring the voice in the back of your head telling you that you already knew deception better than she could imagine. Instead, you just took your seat at the table, sprinkling a handful of chocolate chips over the melting pile of cream on your pancake.

            Cliff and Toriel did much the same, digging into their food without hesitation. You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed in both of them, the elephant in the room left entirely unaddressed. You sighed under your breath. There was only so much you could force to happen. Any heel dragging past that was beyond you to fix. You hid your dismay with a bite of pancake, thanking your lucky stars that, if nothing else, they took the first step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my wrist pain is gone (still no idea where that came from), but I still have to admit that updates will be slowing down for a while. A few of you might remember that I've been whispering here and there about trying to break into writing for a living at some point. When I said that, I had ideas, but they were pretty vague, undeveloped, like figures in the mist.
> 
> Jump forward several months and one of them is starting to come together. There isn't an hour that goes by where I don't figure out an element of the story that will one day be. The problem? Whenever I start trying to sit down and figure out where Unraveling Fates is going for you lovely people, I can't stop my brain from running away to play with its brand new toy. I will restrain my excitement as much as I can, because heck if I'm letting this series die when it's so close to properly ending, but it's going to take some time. Sorry to anyone who counted on the weekly update thing. I blame Tom, and so should you.
> 
> "So not cool, dude. I have way better attention than SQUIRREL! LOOK, A SQUIRREL! CATCH IT!"


	11. False Persona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to appreciate a good act until you take the stage yourself.

            My day started in the worst way possible. Have you ever woken up and decided you didn’t want to get up yet, so you just sat there under your sheets doing nothing? It was kind of like that, except I wasn’t tired and it was completely against my will. Aside from the automatic stuff like breathing, I was completely immobile. If it weren’t for Cliff taking the helm, I would still be stuck in my bed.

            But that led to an even worse fate. He was eating my breakfast right in front of my eyes. I could see the pancakes, the steam wafting from the tall stack, the slowly melting whipped cream dripping down the sides. I could almost imagine the smell, my lips growing wet from raw expectation. But I couldn’t taste a bite of it, not even a weird vicarious echo. I was stuck watching someone else have Mom’s cooking without the option to have some for myself for the first time since I stalked Frisk as Flowey, but at least then I couldn’t fully feel sadness. Now I could, and I almost cried.

            “There, there, you’ll get used to it, I promise.” A tiny hand rubbed the back of my shoulder. My head drifted that way, and I saw Sherri smiling understandingly at me. I smiled back, my lips heavy.

            “Thanks, but it still hurts for now.” She nodded, patiently putting up with my slow motion, tired speech. My mind, though, was still just as sharp, and it linked what was said to who said it. “Wait, how do you know that?” She shrugged.

            “Because I’ve been there. It’s kind of hard to get food every morning when you’re too sick and weak to work for it.”

            “But Bill…” Her smile wilted, but she managed to keep at least an upbeat edge to her mood.

            “Is just one person, and a teenager at that. Then there’s how fast his reputation as a thief spread after every raid, making everyone look out for him specifically for a while before the heat died down. He couldn’t always get enough for us, so there were a lot of mornings where I couldn’t afford to eat.” I never understood how someone so nice could get stuck scraping by on the street. Thank goodness for Bill, otherwise she wouldn’t have eaten at all…

            “Oh man, you’re in here every morning like this.” I put my hands over my eyes in a sudden burst of shame. It would’ve been a hard slap if I could move faster than a comatose sloth. “I never even thought about…”

            “Nope, no moping, mister.” Her gentle touch vanished, ripping my hands from my face and pulling me by the snout to look her in the eyes. “Out there, not eating was dangerous, but now that I don’t have a body, it’s not as important, so don’t start linking the two. If anything, you just taking me in made life a whole lot better on that front, so don’t twist it into another reason to be sad. You have enough of those, don’t you think?” I stared at her for a while, the change in tone so sudden it was like whiplash.

            “I get the feeling you had to snap your brother out of funks a lot.” She nodded, grinning proudly.

            “Behind every great man is a greater woman, right?” She let go of my face, letting me rub what would’ve been a bruise soon after on a normal body.

            “You don’t have to tell me that. I grew up under Mom’s rule of the Underground, remember?” She giggled, clearly glad I wasn’t too deep in the hole for jokes.

            “But that doesn’t mean it’s not a two way street. I kept Bill on point, he kept me alive in general. And don’t forget what you’ve done for me.” She leaned back, reclining in midair. Or, rather, mid super colorful space that was apparently what my guts looked like. “I’d still be out of commission if you hadn’t woken me up. You know.” She looked directly at me, her calm outward appearance contrasting with the serious point in her eyes. “ _Dead_.” The seriousness was gone a second later, her feet idly tapping together.

            “And then there was my condition.”

            “The weakness, right?” She nodded, her face every bit as flat and passive as Frisk’s. The only difference was her eyes, which flicked left and right to follow the colors swirling around us.

            “There were some mornings where it was too much for me to even sit up. My back would start burning, then my muscles would give out. Then landing would set off everything else, and Billy would jump out of bed like a worried guard dog, and it would just go down from there.” I would’ve said I could relate, but, in my case, I just couldn’t move. I’d say it was worse for her, the carrot being waved in front of her before the collar was yanked back.

            Suddenly, her stoic mask vanished, a wide, brilliant smile breaking through as she heaved backwards. Her whole body flipped around like a pinwheel, and she laughed like a kid at the circus.

            “Now I can do stuff like this whenever I want! I don’t have to worry about hurting every morning, about Billy keeping himself up at night worrying about me, about trying to convince him to take the last dry piece of bread he was trying to give me while his stomach rumbled. Weirdly, in here…” Her spinning slowed down, stopping to look at me, the rainbow around us reflected in her eyes. “…I feel more alive than ever.” She kicked off the air, lunging towards me and wrapping her arms around me. I couldn’t even react before she nuzzled into my shoulder.

            “You might not hear this a lot, but thank you, Azzy, for everything.” I managed to hug her back, but I didn’t know where to go from there. Here was someone I thought I had caged thanking me for letting her fly free. I was torn between the stress easing out on that front and a hundred more boulders dropping on my head at the confirmation that my needless haste drove a wedge between me and the one person who really understood me. Take care of one problem, two more sprout in its place.

            I sighed, resigning myself to that fact of my life. All I could do was deal with events as they came, starting with the happy little girl in front of me. A few tears rolled down my cheek, and I sniffled.

            “Thanks, Share, I needed to hear that more than you know.”

 

-

 

            Cliff wringed the sweat from his ears, running through the details of the act in his head. And by in his head, I mean in our collective head.

            _‘Start with a howdy, shy but not too nervous.’_

_‘Stick to the background when possible, just be nice when not.’_

_‘Bring up objections politely but firmly.’_

_‘Don’t slip out of accent.’_ Welp, I’d had about enough after about ten minutes of that.

            _‘Hey, Cliff!’_ His circular thinking ground to a halt, bring forth blessed silence. _‘I’m right here if you need a refresher, and no one at school has any reason to think you’re not me. Just don’t do anything rash and we’ll be fine, okay?’_

            _‘Alright, buddy, just dealin’ with the weight of all our lives on my head is all.’_

            _‘Welcome to the life of everyone Frisk loves. Don’t worry, it’s really nice between disasters.’_ I could move at a slightly quicker clip by that point, letting me deliver a kind of funny line well enough to get him to laugh.

            _‘Well, I guess I should welcome you to life in your head. Don’t worry, it’s real nice between panic attacks.’_ I snickered, the message loud and clear.

            _‘So should we buy the chill pills in bulk, or…?’_ Our back and forth was ended by the distant school bell and the tug on our shoulder. Frisk picked up their pace, pulling us along with them.

            “Need to hurry up. Principal’s kids shouldn’t be late, right?” Cliff broke into a slow jog, the ticking clock looming overhead.

“Can’t say I miss this bit of being alive.” I nodded, finding at least one benefit of not being in control. It wasn’t me that had to hurry up.

            We flew through the front doors with five minutes to spare, Cliff following the directions I gave to my locker. He started fumbling with the padlock, running through my schedule for the solution.

            _‘Say, what was the combo to this thing?’_

            “Morning, Az, you bring the stuff?” Cliff almost jumped out of my skin, only calming down after seeing that it was just Pierce, leaning shoulder first against the lockers. He was rubbing his eyes, silently yawning to himself.

            “Uh, howdy, and yeah, I have that fire magic guide right in here. Just need to get this lock off and…”

            “I thought you left your locker unlocked?” Cliff gulped, hunting for a way to play off the slip in character.

            “Oh, right. Sorry, I’m not really awake right now.” The lock slid open with little effort, opening up to a box full of school supplies and a standard leather bound magic manual. I could see Cliff’s surprise at its weight, almost groaning as he hefted it up to chest level.

            _‘I tried telling you it was heavy. That paper’s mostly rock based. Sturdy, but try not to drop it on your foot. Trust me.’_

            “It’s cool, man. You don’t want to know how I’ve tripped up after an all-nighter.” The stress left, gone with little more than passing conversation.

            _‘See? I told you there wasn’t any pressure.’_ He smiled to himself, muscles relaxing as he reached for the book.

            “Just be careful with this thing, okay? It’s an antique.” Pierce groaned openly.

            “I know, I know, from before you fled underground and all that. We’ve already been over…” He stopped when their eyes met for the first time, instantly noticing the difference. “Aren’t your eyes usually red?” Cliff rolled them, grumbling in annoyance.

            “Yeah, there was a little magic mix up back home. Rule one about new spells for your research; never practice unknown spells without experienced helpers.” He nodded, more intrigued than surprised.

            “Huh, makes sense. So, what were you trying to do?” It was then that we realized we forgot something way too basic. In the space of three seconds, I thought harder than I had in months trying to find one excuse. It was exhilarating in that nostalgic sort of way, but it wasn’t the time for a thrill ride.

           “We, uh…”

            “Trying to help me.” Frisk came in just in time, balancing ten pounds of binders and folders on their head. “Joints were sore, so he tried to throw together some medical magic. Backfired pretty quickly.” For once, I was thankful that they were every bit as deceptive as me. The uninitiated didn’t stand a chance, Pierce accepting it with a hum.

            “I take it that super healing factor of yours has some holes then?” They nodded, both a confirmation and a way to hide the winking under their hair. Hmm, maybe it was about time for a haircut. Now that I was thinking about it, their brown locks were already halfway over their eyes anyway.

            “Magic in my blood, but the rest of me is still human. And human healing’s rarely smooth.” His hum that time was more of a rueful chuckle.

            “True enough, but maybe stick to the muscle ointment next time.” He reached over his back, fishing through the air for the book. Cliff held it out for him, his hand clamping down on it tightly. “I don’t think you want to go hurting a prince like that too oft…” He tried picking up the book single handedly, and his wrist waned under the rocky weight.

            _‘Cliff, watch out!’_ My warning was a second too late, Pierce’s grip failing and dropping almost thirty pounds directly on Cliff’s shoeless feet. Even as a phantom at the back of his head, I almost felt an echo of the pain as his feet flattened. Every alarm in our head went up, primal instinct taking over. Cliff jumped back, landing squarely on his tail and grabbing his legs for dear life.

            “Dang nabbit, that smarts!” His lips clamped shut as soon as he realized his slip up, an undeniably Southern accent coming out instead of his rehearsed imitation. Frisk was by him in a blink, one hand around his back and another down over his injury. Their hand sparked with static, small jolts worming into his muscles and systematically disabling the nerves.

            While Frisk worked their magic, I was casing the scene to see how much damage control was necessary. Fortunately, the hall was mostly empty, only the three of us in sight. Less fortunately, Pierce was as sharp as his name suggested, staring suspiciously. I could almost see the gears turning, the shutters only closing as he put up a mask.

            _‘Cliff, guard up. Pierce is onto us.’_

            _‘Thought so. How should we…?’_

_‘I’m on it.’_ Frisk smiled, laughing softly. “Dang nabbit? How many spaghetti westerns have you been watching?” Cliff blushed, rubbing the back of his head.

            “It’s all I did last Saturday. I guess I should put the cowboys down for a while.” He flexed his toes, confirming the lack of searing agony in time to see Pierce offering an open hand.

            “Sorry about that, dude. I might’ve overestimated my strength.” Cliff reached back, using him as support to get back on his feet.

            “Or underestimated the manual. I tried to warn you, but no…”

            “Okay, okay, you made your point.” The bell rang overhead, and I could feel all three of their hearts leap into their throats. “Now let’s get to class before our teachers have to make their point.”

            “You’re telling me. I’ve got gym with Undyne first hour!” They scurried to grab their stuff, scattering to try to make it to their rooms before roll call. Even with the threat of angry fish, there was something else to fear at hand. With every step we took, I could feel his eyes piercing into the back of my head.

 

-

 

            The rest of the day was, by and large, uneventful. It seemed like word of our predicament had spread through the grapevine, a number of our friends looking out for us in secret. Well, I say secret, but it’s really hard to work under the nose of someone who knows all the tricks. A well timed dodgeball in gym when questions got too intrusive, a scolding from Mom when people started joking about the eyes, an unexpected fire alarm test when Cliff’s nerves started locking up, all classic distraction techniques. Not nearly enough to distract a pro, but more than sufficient for the common student.

            Pierce, however, wasn’t exactly common. His movements weren’t subtle enough to escape me, but they were persistent enough to work through the deception. It felt like there was always a corner of his eye dedicated to tracking Cliff. Even when he wasn’t around, I could see the cameras following us a little too closely, something to be highly suspicious about when contending with a known hacker. The only solace I could find was in an inadvertent maneuver on my part, his focus split between Cliff and the magic manual. I hoped that, eventually, he would choose to pursue the lead he knew he had instead of the one he only suspected.

            The final bell rang, and a flood of monsters rushed for the exits. I didn’t even have to tell Cliff to hang back, the inherent danger of getting in the way of things that were naturally on fire coming pretty naturally. The hoard dispersed soon after, and the way out was much more calm for it. Cliff leaned against a wall near the front doors, waiting for Frisk before we left.

            Our head drooped, eyes closing to give the appearance of being half asleep. Of course, from where I was standing, it seemed like a reasonable enough response to the end of a long performance.

            _‘Good going out there. Most people wouldn’t be able to hold an act that long on their first try.’_

_‘Yeah, but I don’t think I’ve got another one of those in me. Please tell me Miss Alphys has something for us.’_ I shrugged, but not because I wanted to.

            _‘She’s the only chance we really have. Nothing else to do but…’_

            “I know.” The sudden intrusion snapped Cliff out of his self-induced drowsiness. His eyes opened to the last thing we wanted to see. Pierce was slouched against the opposite wall, staring at us intently. In one hand was his laptop, his fingers tapping rhythmically against its lid. In the other was a pair of books. One was a plain notebook, and the other had an old fashioned carving of a Boss monster on the cover. Our feet froze to the floor when the chilling declaration sank in.

            “I know you’re not Asriel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM ALIVE! AGAIN! I return from, hopefully, the last great draught before the grand finale. To anyone reading this, thanks for not forgetting about me. Things should be much smoother from this point on.
> 
> You're probably wondering where the heck I went. Well, call it mild ADD. My mind latched onto an idea for a new, original novel that I couldn't help but pursue for a few months there. I'm sitting on nearly fifty pages of notes on a sprawling fantasy world, awaiting the day it hatches into a beautiful piece of literature. Psyb GUD pARent.
> 
> "It's hardboiled."
> 
> Otherwise, I put a few more new games under my belt. Witcher 3, Dark Souls 3, my first playthrough of Undertale...
> 
> Yeah, believe it or not, I haven't played Undertale myself until recently, mostly because my computer is effectively a cardboard box running on a hamster wheel. Thank goodness for the PSN release. And the guys behind the new Nier game, who apparently played a key role in the port. Consider my creative spark reignited, hopefully just in time for the resurgence of Undertale fanfiction searches.
> 
> (And yes, I did sit through the entire Dog Shrine process. The platinum was worth it.)


	12. Prying Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When faced with the light of day, even the greatest of ploys fall.

            You hid around the corner before the school’s main entrance, ears perked and nerves on end. You were sweating, one twitch away from hitting the Reload button. It was only Asriel’s... no, Cliff’s calm, confused outward appearance that kept your cool intact. You watched them intently, Gaster acting as a camera to snoop without being spotted.

            “What are you talking about?” Cliff kept his response brief, but not so curt as to give the impression of disdain. Pierce’s eyes narrowed, but his matter of fact tone remained.

            “I’ve been doing some digging, some watching. I counted thirteen moments where your response to a situation was unnaturally delayed. You had to clear your throat before answering a question about monster history, something Asriel, the crowned prince, would be expected to know like the back of his hand.” He wasn't wrong. Asriel could recite the exact casualty tolls from the monster-human war by heart, and he knew the mortality rates for monster kind throughout the first century of imprisonment in the Underground. He was expected to be as sharp as a tack, and Pierce knew it.

            “You mean in Mom’s class? I’m seated right next to a Vulkin. Do you know how smoky the air can get around those guys?” You could almost see Asriel at work behind the mask, piecing together explanations out of nothing.

            “Were it a standalone incident, I would’ve accepted that detail before ever confronting you, but it’s not. You forgot about the lock on your locker being a front, even though Asriel could explain in great detail before how their title and reputation already did a good enough job to not bother with the inconvenience.”

            “I was half asleep this morning. We’ve all done embarrassing things fresh out of bed.”

            “You were taken off guard by the weight of the magic manual when you picked it up, but its weight should have been a natural detail about something Asriel was made to study with throughout his childhood, as per Boss monster tradition.” He tapped the book at his side, a slight shift in angle revealing its title; _‘Our Kings and Queens: A Guide to the Ways of the Boss Monster.’_

            “Mom was more into hands on teaching than our ancestors, and tradition’s not enforced as law.” Pierce leaned forward, the incredulity in his eyes coldly boiling to the surface.

            “You stumbled when explaining what happened to your eyes, even though Asriel takes great pride in his willingness to help and finds no shame in loving his brother.”

            “I wasn’t sure if Frisk wanted me to tell anyone about it or not. They have a lot of enemies, and even a small opening could bring in the assassins by the droves now that everyone’s guard is down.”

            Every return in their back and forth made you tense up, a cold hand playing at your vertebrae like a xylophone with every accurate point raised, a warm reassurance blanketing it over with every expertly placed parry. You could only admire the display on Asriel and Cliff’s part, both as a telling sign of their teamwork and a showing of their ability to perform under pressure.

            Seemingly fed up, Pierce loosed a sigh, leaning over to deposit his laptop and notebook, leaving only the Boss monster guide in his hands. He opened it to a bookmarked page and nonchalantly began reading it aloud.

            “The most distinctive mark of our lords and ladies, however, is their eye color, a brilliant red not shared by any other sub race among us. They say the eyes are the windows to the Soul, and, for them, it is quite literal. The color of their eyes is a testament to the magic in their veins, an immutable symbol of authority and a detail used to thwart many a pretender in ages long passed.” The book snapped shut, and he tapped his foot impatiently. “This is the part where you start explaining, Goldie.”

            Your heart sank when no return of fire sounded. Cliff only stood there, eyebrows knotting, heart rate spiking. After ten straight seconds, it was clear to everyone present that the jig was up. You were moments from triggering a rewind when Cliff sighed, his tone lowered to a not Asriel octave.

            “Look, you got me, I’m not Az, but I’m also not a threat or anything like that.” Pierce raised an eyebrow, patiently awaiting an explanation. “Our buddy’s in a bit of a rough patch, and I’m filling his shoes for him. Literally.” Pierce's flat, unflinching mask dented, a grin breaking through to the surface.

            “See, isn’t it so much easier to tell the truth. Now then, what sort of trouble is he in, and how are you mirroring him so accurately? As far as my research shows, the Doppler monster sub race died out shortly after your imprisonment underground.” Cliff nodded, and the eery civility the conversation took on made you pause. It’s like Pierce wasn’t angry, only terrifyingly curious with a hint of condescension.

            “I’ll explain it later. That line I fed ya about assassins? The part about Frisk might’ve been a lie, but the danger’s all too real. All it takes is one word slippin’ into the wrong ear and a whole lotta lives will be put in the crosshairs. Just give us until Az’s back on his feet, then we’ll tell ya whatever you want to hear.” His smirk vanished, and his eyes narrowed.

            “And what, exactly, is keeping me from going over to Brutus, telling him we have an imposter, and having him shake the truth out of you here and now?” The teeth were bared, and your blood ran cold. You were certain Cliff had the same thought, his eyes shooting open and a lump lodging in his throat. He rushed over to Pierce, putting a hand on his shoulder. His voice was shaky, filled with a mortal terror born of experience.

            “There’s nothin’ substantial I can give ya right now to stop ya, I’m just not at liberty to do so, but I’m begging ya, man to man, to not go any further than you’ve already gone. You need to understand, I’m not the only person in this skin. There are five other people in here, five people that have every reason to keep Asriel safe and healthy, five people that don’t take kindly to so little as an implied threat.”

            “But there’s someone else here, too.” His hand was shivering, the breath of death itself running down his neck, and Pierce’s anger melted into uninformed concern. “That sixth someone, I can’t rightly call them a person. I can’t rightly call them a monster. The only word I’ve got for ‘em is _demon_. Pure wrath in living form. I don't know if they’re listening, but if they are, you need to know that the only thing they care about is Asriel. If they think he’s at risk, if they have any reason to see you as a threat…” His breath caught, and you could almost see that sickening, furious red reflected in his eyes.

            “They’ll hurt you in ways you could never dream of.” His eyes went dull, hollow, the act of remembering his own time in the spotlight seemingly shorting out his mind. You braced yourself, trying your hardest to shove down the oncoming relapse as you stepped out of your hiding spot. Pierce’s eyes jumped to you, every emotion the human body was capable of swirling wildly in his head.

            “He’s telling the truth. Please, reconsider what you’re doing. If not for our sake, then for your own.” Even holding as much of the fear back as you could, a twitch of it managed to slip through, putting a crack in your invincible facade. “If it tells you anything, I’m just as afraid of them being pushed to action as him.” By this point, Pierce’s knees were quivering, his legs barely retaining enough stability to keep him from collapsing.

            “O… okay. I won’t tell anyone.” He took a deep breath, fortifying himself with the last grains of confidence he had left. “But I expect a full explanation soon. If this sixth guy’s as dangerous as you say he is, people deserve to know it.” You nodded, understanding his concern completely.

            “It’s a promise. Hold up your end, and I’ll hold mine. Don’t worry, if need be, I can talk with them.” You put a hand on Cliff’s shoulder, and he jumped, head swiveling to look at you as his awareness trickled back to him. “Come on, we should get going. Alphys is expecting us.” It took him a second to respond, nodding both fervently and subduedly. It was clear he wanted out of this situation as soon as possible. You held the door open for him, looking back to Pierce one more time. He was staring directly at the floor, expression unreadable as he digested everything that just happened. You had little choice but to sympathize, as that had been you less than a year ago. The door closed behind you, and you silently hoped that this wouldn’t be the domino that brought the timeline tumbling down.

 

-

 

            The sliding door hissed as you passed, stepping into daylight with nothing but the voices in your head. Greater Dog remained within, under orders to safeguard Asriel as he was being treated, leaving you alone in body for the first time in months. You walked along with little direction, only changing course when your steps threatened to carry you off of the sidewalk. There were more important things to devote brain power towards, but no answers were forthcoming.

            _‘Frisk, please, must I beg you to rest? You’ve been a nervous mess all day.’_ A tiny part of you resented Gaster’s comment. As the only person privy to your thought process in real time, he was able to see your downward spirals when everyone around you couldn’t peer past your outward calmness. The rest of you, though, was thankful to have a responsible voice of reason.

            _‘It’s hard to relax with so much to worry about.’_ It seemed as though danger came at you from every direction. Asriel’s condition and the uncertainty therein, the incoming threat of Hedon, who seemed to know enough about both you and Chara to bring either to your knees without assistance, and, to top it all off, a new leak had sprung, bringing with it the possibility that your myriad lies would come crashing over you at once. You felt both an intense need to Save at every turn and a crippling fear that doing so would set your fate in stone.

            _‘This would be the point where I remind you that you aren’t working alone. There’s a reason Sans has been working so feverishly as of late, you know.’_ It wasn’t an incorrect statement. Thanks to Gaster’s link to the End, you could track his son’s teleportation activity with perfect accuracy. Times where he said he was going to nap led directly into spontaneous trips halfway across the countryside, and it seemed as though he had a particular fascination with the river just outside of town shortly after dusk. You didn’t know what he was doing exactly, but you had little doubt it was in pursuit of the same goal as you.

            _‘It doesn’t change the fact that the state of the timeline rests with me alone. One slip up is all it would take.’_ You shook your head, realizing that you had made your way all the way to the park while walking in circles in your mind. You took a seat on the nearest swing, gently pumping yourself back and forth. _‘What if I Save just as Hedon attacks someone? What if there isn’t enough time to help them, and they wind up dead? What if I lose someone forever and can’t save them?’_ You buried your head in your hands, pinching your eyelids closed with your palms.

            _‘Frisk, you need to calm…’_

_‘How would I explain it to everyone? Now that they know I can control time, I'll be the first person they turn to to save them, but what if I can’t? How could I ever face them, or anyone after that?’_ Image after image flashed into your mind, for once not of things you had already experienced, but that didn’t make them any more appealing. Undyne crying over a dusty lab coat. Sans staring at a hollow suit of white armor. Asriel grasping desperately at wisps as Mom and Asgore’s Souls shattered forever.

            And it would be your fault that they couldn’t come back, not without Resetting and erasing everything that everyone had worked so hard for. You couldn’t hear Gaster anymore, the cries from your visions blending together into a mad chorus that drowned reality out in its wake. For a few agonizing moments, you thought of Flowey with the upmost jealousy. Caring so little seemed like a beautiful dream. A hiccup wracked your body, and a trail of tears poured from either side of your hands.

            _‘What do I…?’_ Your thoughts ground to a halt, a pair of cold, smooth hands settling on your shoulders.

            “Frisk, darling, are you alright?” You cracked your fingers open, exposing your thoroughly flooded eyes to the scrupulous, worried gaze of Mettaton. “Are you hurt? No, you take trauma like that far too easily. Then is someone else…?” Another shiver rattled you, and your tears redoubled, your cheeks completely soaked in their wake.

            “I… I don’t… I…” His scrutiny softened, and his hands trailed down your back, pulling you into a steely embrace. The casing over his Soul was warm, making up for the lack of body heat.

            “Go on, my casing is waterproof. You needn’t hold back.” His grip adjusted, almost cradling you as he patted your back. You could feel Gaster working to numb your limbs, to keep you from trying to refute the offer, but you didn’t have nearly enough strength to do so anyway. It felt as though all the fluid in your body had built up behind your eyes, and the slightest prod was enough to pop the bubble.

            You spent what felt like hours there, crying into Mettaton until all the excess water in your body was drained away. The Sun was already setting when you pulled away, tired, thirsty, but somehow better. You smiled up at him, trying to ignore the automated windshield wipers clearing the glass over his meters and lights.

            “Thanks, Metta. I needed that.” Your voice was worn and ragged, but that was to be expected. He pulled a hankie out of his waist mounted dispenser, gently dabbing it along your cheeks.

            “Anytime, darling, anytime at all. Now then…” When your face was properly dried, he deposited the wipe into his opposite hip, his built in mini washer booting up. “Perhaps you would like to tell me what has you so blue?” He scooted closer to you, sitting on crossed legs to show he wasn’t going anywhere. You sighed, the echoes of your doubts sounding once again.

            “What doesn’t would be easier. You know what it’s like being important to a lot of people, right?” He nodded, an inkling of understanding coming through.

            “Of course. This wouldn’t happen to involve your…” He looked back and forth, scanning for onlookers and unwanted ears. “…special skills, would it?” He subtly motioned towards his wrist, a clear indicator of which ‘skills’ he was referring to.

            “Yeah.” You struggled to find the right way to word it. “Imagine if your fans were tied to your work so that if you made one bad song, or said one line slightly off in a show, or blinked at the wrong time, part of the audience would just die, then and there.” He nodded, your melancholy attitude starting to spread to him.

            “Well, at least I’m not always on a stage or being recorded.” You slouched over, eyes falling from him to the grass below you.

            “Can you keep a secret?” In the corner of your eye, you could see him making a turning key motion over his mouth. “You know how we’ve been getting attacked by different versions of you-know-who?” He nodded again, this time slowly and cautiously. “Well, there’s someone new like that, someone different. He calls himself Hedon, and, to be blunt, he’s even worse.” Outside, he was patient and quiet, but you could tell his mechanical heart skipped a beat at the thought.

            “As far as Sans, Asriel, and I can tell, he was close to our version of you-know-who, maybe a partner or a guardian, and it shows. He’s so strong, a weak puppet he sent after us took all three of us to bring down, and he’s smart, too. He knew exactly how to trigger my…” You gestured vaguely towards your head. “…flashbacks and stop me. He broke me with his words, and now he’s out there somewhere with a vendetta to fill.” You grabbed your face again, but you were too exhausted to cry anymore.

            “Add that to Asriel being sick and trying to hide what he and I are really capable of and it’s all just so…” His hand returned to your back, applying a soothing pressure up and down your spine.

            “‘Overwhelming’ would be an understatement.” You nodded, glad he understood. “Have you three told anyone else about the situation? The King and Queen, Undyne, anyone?” You shook your head.

            “Our therapist was there when he attacked, and so was Greater Dog, but that’s it.” He clicked his tongue.

            “We’ve been over the matter of secrets before, have we not? You should really know better by…”

            “It’s different this time.” Your hands fell in front of you, your fingers lacing together. “We know he wants something from Asriel. We know he’s interested in me. We know he has a reason to hold a grudge against Sans and Greater. Right now, we don’t know what his plans for everyone else are. Maybe telling them will help them prepare, or maybe it’ll drag them into his line of sight. I can’t bring myself to put them in danger like that.” Your hair shifted, forming a curtain over your eyes. “It’s bad enough that I cracked and pulled you into all this…” The grass crunched under choppy, uneven movement, and then a boot punched deep into the ground.

            “That is quite enough!” The shock made you look up at him, his arms crossed and his face somewhere between anger and annoyance. “Frisk, I know you mean the best, I truly do, but you need to learn that there’s more than one way to hurt us.” One arm left the union, a hand touching his Soul container. “We _love_ you. Your mother, your friends, the entirety of monster kind, we love and admire and respect you. You freed us and have given your all to grant us a chance to truly shine ever since.”

            “If something were to happen to you, I fear we would never truly recover.” His anger burned away into listlessness, the idea of a future without you robbing him of his fire. “Even if the coming storm is aimed at the four of you alone, it would hurt us more than any lightning strike or knife if we were made to stand aside as you died.” He closed his eyes, the air between you dense with the weight of his claim. “I’ll give you a few days to talk it over with them, but if you four don’t come clean by then, I will personally deliver the news to Asgore and Toriel. Am I clear?” Your shoulders sank, any suspension they had long gone, but you had enough left in you to nod.

            “Crystal." He smiled warmly, retaking his seat and wiping clumps of dirt off his boot.

            “You’re a strong person, but maybe a little too strong sometimes. I think a wise human once said “Strength is knowing your weaknesses.” Or something to that effect.” The silence between you then was such more comfortable. Even though you were scolded, you felt deep down that maybe, just maybe there was a ray of light. Your prior yearning for Soullessness shriveled away, retreating to the depths of your mind. Maybe Pauly could help cut it away for good later.

            Then a thought hit you.

            “Wait, didn’t you say it would take a week to get here?” You remembered him saying just that on the phone Monday. Considering it was only Wednesday, you had a reasonable right to ask. He smirked with no small amount of pride.

            “Now darling, I said _within_ a week, not in a week. If I had my way, I would have arrived later that day, but apparently the laws of physics didn’t like that plan. Really, how could I make my adoring first wave of fans wait any longer than they must?” Now there was the Mettaton you remembered. “We can talk about concert arrangements tomorrow over a nice spa day. Don’t worry, I’ve already made the proper arrangements.”

            “For now, how about we get you home? If you’re out too long, our dear Queen might stress herself into a case of crow’s feet, and I can attest to how difficult they can be to iron out.” Looking up, you could see the orange and yellow of sunset giving way to the purple of night, and your internal clock said your curfew was just around the corner.

            Time sure flew when you were dealing with existential crises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh how I missed writing this twisted ball of lies and deceit. Let me tell you, selective spreading of information and disinformation about the cast like this is one of the trickiest things I've done in ages. It's deeply rewarding, and gives me a great excuse to actually expand Pierce's character. Been meaning to do that since chapter five of story one, and here we are, finally following through on it years later. What do you think, Tom?
> 
> "...You use the word 'eyes' a lot. Don't you have any other points of reference, dude?"


	13. Fishy Relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's harder to hide stuff from a half blind fish than you would think.

            My arms and legs creaked with every step, and my scales rubbed against each other at uncomfortable angles. My body was still on the mend from yesterday’s training, and Sans still expected to see me at the riverside as soon as the Sun was out of the sky. I was no stranger to a strict training regiment, but he ran one of the most demanding routines I had ever seen, let alone experienced.

            We were still working on phase one, acclimating my body to transformation so that stepping my game up was second nature. As it stood, the change was an automatic response to extreme danger, and the only way we had of triggering it was for Sans to kick the crud out of me.

            I don’t know how obvious it is, but if butt kicking was a class, Sans would be graduating early, the constant throbbing in my everything being his report card. It was only long years of training to work under pain that kept the lid on our little secret.

            I glanced up, the sky starting to take on a deep gold color. I guessed that I had about twenty minutes to get home and apply a soothing ointment before getting my butt handed to me for the third night in a row. My first thought was to break into a sprint, but my second was about how limp my legs felt. The last thing I needed was to smack face first into the pavement, even if it was softer than a wave of bones.

            The lab came into view, and, to my surprise, Alphys and Prince Asriel were on their way out. I could’ve sworn she had a nervous tick about being around him, but then I noticed his eyes. Instead of the normal Boss monster brand of red, they were a dull green, a sign that it wasn’t actually him at the moment. Still, she didn’t look like she was exactly comfortable, the sweat on her forehead highlighted by the sunset. Steeling myself, I broke into a run, my soft bottomed boots silencing my approach.

            “Hey, Alphy, what’s up!?” I snatched her up in one smooth move, ignoring my muscles' cries to just take it easy for once. ‘Asriel’ jumped back, caught off guard like a total newbie, but she was pretty used to it by now, leaning back into my grapple hug.

            “I was just about to help, um…” She looked around, trying to deduce if it was safe to speak openly. “… _Asriel_ get home. The treatment was a little strenuous, and we wouldn’t want anyone _overwhelming him_.” The nudging against my ribs for good measure wasn’t needed, her hints a lot less subtle than what I’d been dealing recently. It was probably a good idea to keep an eye on someone who could’ve slipped up at any moment, giving away the whole “Our next king’s fueled by human Souls” thing.

            My only concern was with who she had lined up for it. She kept her anxiety under wraps better than usual, visual cues limited to the sweat, but I could feel her heart beating erratically. She was shaking like a leaf on the inside, and, as a responsible girlfriend, there was no way in Hell I was letting that fly. I set her down gently, patting her shoulder supportively.

            “Well, you look pretty beat yourself, so how about I take the kid off your hands?” Her eyes widened in surprise, glancing back and forth between me and ‘Asriel.’ He, in return, just nodded slightly, counting on me not being able to see because of the eyepatch on that side. Now I knew, in part, what it was like to be Frisk, knowing things I wasn’t supposed to. I chose to not bring it up, acting like I hadn’t seen a thing.

            “Oh, that would be great. You know, i-if you don’t mind?” She smiled uncertainly, and, even if it was part of some ruse or secret, my heart melted at the sight. How was she so freaking cute!?

            “Not at all. Heck, protecting the Dreemurrs is literally my job, right?” I playfully saluted, posture going rigid as per protocol. “Knight Captain Undyne, reporting for duty, ma’am!” I waved him my way, curtailing any further hesitance. “This way, sir. Please stay close.” I let the act drop, walking casually down the sidewalk as they scurried to catch up. “I’ll be back around midnight, Alphy, save some pizza for me!”

            The first hundred feet or so were quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. They were still on my left, where I shouldn’t have technically seen them, but by the power of Determination, I saw that they were staring pointedly at their own feet. I figured it was one of the three humans that had been possessed by Chara at one point or another, and seeing a Royal Guard was making them feel all guilty about it. It fell to me to break the ice.

            “So, kid, what’s your name? It’d be kind of weird to keep calling you Asriel.” They gulped, eyes drifting to where I wasn’t even in their peripheral vision. When they did speak, their voice was almost inaudibly quiet and definitely female.

            “Terry…” She coughed, trying to hide her slip up. “I mean, Terry.” It sounded like she was trying to emulate Asriel’s tone, but it was more like a tuba with a bad cold.

            “You can talk normally. There’s no one out to hear you right now, and I already know.” She breathed a sigh of relief, probably just as aware of how awful her accent was. Maybe that little upswing was just the opening I needed. “So I’m gonna take a stab…” I bit my lip, HARD. “Sorry, a guess, and say a certain red eyed brat was in your head for a while?” She squeaked fearfully and almost tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, just barely keeping her balance. Bingo.

            “Look, whatever you did then, it’s not your fault, okay?” Her head turned towards me, uncertainty clouding her expression. “I don’t care how bad it got or how much you think you deserve punishment for it or whatever, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s just another sin to pin on your ‘roommate.’ With a spear, if possible.” I looked at her more directly, and she hurried to look dead ahead. “If you really need to get it off your chest, I’m all ears, but I promise I won’t hold any of it against you. That wouldn’t be fair of me.” I let it sit there for a while, waiting to see if she responded.

            “…The amalgamates…” And _there_ we were. Maybe that was why Alphys was still nervous. You know, two people that played a part in creating the most terrifying group in the kingdom? There would understandably be some tension there.

            “Huh, so that was Chara, too. You know, I was thinking they might’ve had a hand in it, but I let it go. I mean, they couldn’t be behind everything that went wrong back in the Underground.” I snorted bitterly. “I guess they could be after all. Heh, how long before we find out that they screwed with Gaster’s experiment, too? Wouldn’t that be kick in the tee…” My left leg’s wounds flared, locking up as I put my weight on it. The knee buckled, and I toppled over like a house of cards, saved from a painful meeting with the ground only by Terry throwing herself under me like a human crutch.

            “Oh man, are you okay?” Well, my leg was limp, my hips were burning, and a branch of utter agony was pushing its way up my spine, so…

            “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse falls before, like this one time I was trying to bench press a boulder on Asgore's castle’s roof…”

            “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

            “Nope, I really found a way up…”

            “Someone who’s 'fine' wouldn’t fall over like that! Come on, let me see the leg.” Frankly, I was stunned. Gone was the wilting flower that I met a few minutes ago, replaced by the face of absolute rigidity. At first, I thought I was dealing with a different human, especially since the meek tone had shifted to an assertive blaze, but her eyes were still the same green, if a good deal more shiny. I rolled up my pant leg instinctively, and her eyes narrowed in focus.

            “…Misaligned scales, knee bent three degrees to the right…” She poked my upper thigh firmly, using the blunt side of her claw, thankfully, but I still recoiled from the resulting ache. “…and overly sensitive to pressure.” She sighed, annoyed in the same way a mother would be. “Most humans would call a leg like this broken and stuff it in a cast. How the actual Hell were you still standing?” I found myself both nervous and upset, my life choices being dissected like a frog in biology class.

            “Do most humans have the honorable task of protecting their leader and training other guards to do the same? I can’t just up and take a sick day for every bump and…” She pressed her palm firmly down on my exposed knee, her hand buzzing slightly. If I squinted, I could see the point of contact was glowing a Spring green.

            “I think it went something like…” A sharp pulse coursed through my leg, my muscles tugging towards the back for a moment before it passed. By the time I could react, the soreness throughout my lower left half had subsided, leaving it the way it was before I started training with Sans. Actually, it might’ve been even better than that. “Asriel told us about how Toriel heals wounds. Did I copy it right?” I gave it a few good flexes just to be sure I wasn’t losing my mind.

            “Squirt, if you didn’t, then you need to go give her some pointers ASAP. I feel great!” I shot up, relishing the newfound looseness before my other leg started to wobble. I breathed in through clenched teeth and slowly dropped myself back to a less strenuous kneel. “Hey, you think you could…?” She nodded, getting into position to work her magic on the other leg. “Is there a way to spread that out to the rest of my body? I’m pretty beat up all over." She smiled in a good natured sort of way, and the pulse she sent out washed over me like an ocean wave. I could feel my scales sliding back into their proper places after so many years of being displaced by my less than controlled workouts.

            “How did you even get this messed up? You’re supposed to be the top soldier around here, right?” I groaned, only partially because of the near massage like pressure rolling over my back.

            “Yeah, but I'm not even close to the top comedian.” Her eyebrows scrunched together, but they raised to astral heights when it hit her. “Don’t tell anyone, but Sans has been giving me some combat training. You might not think it, but he’s an _extremely_ hands on teacher.” The last of her magic filtered out of my system, and I stood up a bit more cautiously. I found myself being able to move more comfortably than I had in days, maybe even years. I tensed each muscle in my body one by one, marveling in the afterglow of top tier healing skills. “Oh God that hit the spot! I owe you one, squirt.” She recoiled, putting both hands up in a show of modesty.

            “No, it was the least I could do. Especially after…” Her sentence slowed down, coming to a stop before she could finish her thought. Her fingers curled up as her arms lowered, and her eyes went back to the ground at our feet. A yellow flag went up, and it started flashing when she glanced up at the left side of my face.

            “Um… Do you think I could take a shot at healing…?” She pointed at my eyepatch, and, though my sense of caution was beating me over the head with the flagpole, I calmly nodded.

            “Yeah, you can take a crack at it. Be warned, the best monster doctors have tried to fix it before, but it never sticks. Then again, you could’ve said the same about the rest of my overworked bod a minute ago…” I reached up, carefully untying the strap. I clenched the eyelid shut, hiding my Determination infused eye socket as the patch dangled from my grasp. “Hit me with your best shot!” I gave her a thumbs up and a cocky grin, making her dour expression lighten up a little.

            Softly, as though worried I would break, she let her fingers trail along my scar. I couldn’t feel any of it, the thick outer layer long since blocking access to the damaged nerves. She held back a panic attack as she traced over my eyelid, which promptly pushed inwards. She pulled back before it could open properly, but the shaking in her legs said the damage was already done.

            Still, she persisted, covering as much of the area as she could with her hand. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, letting her magic flow into me as she exhaled. It tingled a bit at first, then it got intensely itchy. I fought to keep my hands down, the sensation passing in favor of a light burning. Then came the pulse. It was the shortest in duration of the lot, and the tugging was minimal. She gulped, pulling her hand away, steeling her spirit before she opened her eyes. Her shoulders drooped, and I confirmed why with a quick touch. The skin was as thick and scarred as ever.

            “Oh well, no need to sweat it. I’ve had it covered for this many years now anyway.” I slipped the patch back into place, hiding how much of a rush I was in to block her view of it. The shine in her eyes extinguished, a thick haze taking its place. “Come on, chin up. You think I like seeing kids beat themselves up?” It was then that I noticed that she was starting to shiver, and the fur under her eyes was darkening from moisture.

            “I’m sorry.” The occasional twitch turned into full on convulsions, and her teeth were gritting together in a futile attempt to restrain her sobs. “I’m so sorry.” Her apologies were getting less cohesive with each repetition, the flow of her words stymied by hiccups. I put a hand on each of her shoulders, my mind racing for a way to calm her down.

            “Hey, hey, it’s okay, I swear! Seriously, you don’t have to cry over it, I can deal with one lousy scar. If you did your best, how could I complain?”

            “N-no it’s not… not that…” Her hands clamped over her face, and the branching trails of tears started running down her arms. “I’m so… so… I didn’t mean to…” My frustration was getting harder and harder to hide, a heavy scowl threatening to break through.

            “Didn’t mean to what?” She curled up as much as she could in my steady grip, and a few drops of tears dripped from her cheek onto my hand. “I’ve been injured for nearly a decade now, at least nine years. You didn’t have anything to do with…” My eyes shot open as the tiny man on my head finally found a soft spot to jam the alarm flag into, its cloth turning a bright, neon red.

            It was about nine years ago that I woke up without a single clue what my name was or an eye in my left socket. It was a few weeks after that when it was reported that the Royal Scientist had enlisted monsters who had fallen down for experiments. Terry said she was responsible for what happened to them, so that meant…

            “You _were_ there.” She sniffed hard, clearing out her nostrils, and threw her hands forward. She clutched my shoulders every bit as hard as I did hers, and her palms started to tingle. Before I could question it, a spark ran up my back, and my field of view blurred painfully. Even the things I heard and smelled dulled out, like I was being pried away from the world as I knew it.

            _‘Don’t worry, we can take them. They must be worn out by now.’_ _The voice was strange, like a deeper, more masculine version of me. I couldn’t remember it clearly, but I felt like some part of me was resonating with it. I couldn’t pin down why before the noise grew deafening, a mixture of stone shattering, fighters grunting and gasping, and metal crashing against metal. I faintly smelled human blood, but it was well covered by the scent of fresh dust, something like spent gunpowder and volcanic ash. That smell only grew stronger as the voice let out a yell, and my skin was weighed down by a new layer atop it._

_‘No, you bastard!' This one was a little higher than me, but the base tone was the same. The air split somewhere to my right, and more metal collided. A thud followed, and another layer of unholy grime piled on my flesh._

_‘Mom, Dad!’ The third one was especially familiar, but, again, the reason eluded me. Listening to it gave me a headache, one that no amount of willpower could silence. ‘Give… give them back…’ Whoever she was, her voice was being forced out between rounds of sniffling. Most people wouldn’t notice the edge under it, the almost suffocating hatred that poisoned the air with every breath._

_‘GIVE THEM BACK! NYAAAAH!!!’ The fog over my eyes shattered, and in front of me was a pint size undine with red hair and the angriest expression I could imagine. A part of me was confused, swearing that I was the last of my particular sub race left. Who was this squirt, and why was she so pissed off? So…_

_…Determined?_

            I gasped, a moment of clarity letting me pull myself away from Terry’s grasp. Away from the vision. But I couldn’t escape the horrible throbbing in my mind. It went beyond my brain as an organ, somehow piercing straight into my very Soul. I stared down at my hands, looking for the dust I swore was still stuck between my scales. Was that…?

            My train of thought was derailed by another thump, Terry falling to her knees and curling up into a ball. She was mumbling to herself, over and over again. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, repeated through the rivers carved into her fur. I didn’t know what I should do. Part of me wanted to scream belligerently, to rip whatever answers I could get out of whoever I could get my hands on. Part of me wanted to break down and cry, too, that faint hint of what I was before reigniting the endless anxiety I thought I had discarded years ago.

            But, in the end, there was only one thing I could do. I got down on my knees, grabbed Terry with all my strength, and pulled her into my arms, running the tips of my claws through her head fur.

            “Kid… I…” I faltered, unsure of what exactly I should say. The only thing I knew was that she was putting all of the blame on her own shoulders. If she was half as stubborn as a certain other human like that, then I would need an indirect route. “I want to know what happened back then. I want to know what you know about me, and what happened to me. But we have all the time in the world for that. Right now, there are places we both need to be.” A few stars were starting to punch through the waning light, the sand in our hourglass flowing away. Her crying had slowed down, her ears open to whatever I had to say. “I’m going to take you home now, and we’ll keep this little tiff between the two… er, I guess eight of us. Sometime soon, I’ll want to talk about this when we can both think clearly. Until then though…” I pushed her away, just enough for her to get a good look at my eye. At my composure and sincerity.

            “I forgive you.” The words hit her like a cannonball, her air getting forced out as her eyes widened as far as they could go. They were slick and shiny with tears, thin green stress lines weaving through the sclera. She searched every inch of my face for a sign of falsehood, a grain of dishonesty.

            When her search came up empty handed, one more wave of tears seeped out, and a small, cautious smile followed them.

 

-

 

            “hey, dyne. kinda late, aren’t ya?” By the time I got to the riverside, Sans was already in position, rooted in his footprints from the first day of training. I had yet to make him move from that one spot, which, though infuriating, gave me a decent first goal to aim for.

            “I had to help _Asriel_ get home. You know what’s up with him, right?” He nodded, humming in confirmation.

            “'bout as much as anyone else. who’d he have filling in?”

            “Terry, the one with the green Soul.” I rolled my arms in their sockets, expecting an opening volley anytime. He had a knack for striking when you least expected, and I didn’t want to be caught with a strained shoulder. As a bonus, it kept me from thinking about what she said too much, though enough of that junk was apparently coming through to catch Sans’s attention.

            “i take it somethin’ went down ‘tween you guys?” His left hand pocket bulged out a little, a more subdued sort of stretching. I didn’t get why he did it, no muscles and all, but it was far from the first mystery with him.

            “Yeah, nine years ago. Turns out it was you-know-who in her body that made the amalgamates fall down.” His eyes widened a little, probably with the same sense of unease I had when I heard it. “…And she had something to do with me losing my eye. I let her off the hook for now, but we’re gonna have a little talk sometime soon.” I shrugged, trying to shake the thought out of my head. It would just distract me if I let it dig into my brain now.

            “huh, you’d think someone would’ve told you about it sooner.” I rolled my eyes, stuffing my patch under the nearest rock for protection. I didn’t want to have to buy a new one every time I trained.

            “It looked like it was a pretty big weight on her shoulders, and you know how Asriel is about pushing people into things. I’m a little peeved about it, but I think I get why. Besides, I can’t exactly suplex my boss’s son, can I?” Sans scratched the side of his head.

            “coulda sworn frisk said they played all the memories out on the big screen when they went to wake the Souls up, but no one there thought to clue you in?” Well, that was a new thought, but it didn’t really change much. Frisk was super protective of them, so they would be shaky about spilling the beans. Gerson said he was there, too, but, from what I gathered, he already had enough black marks on his name in their books, so he was excused. Barely. So, who else was in there when they were digging in his head…?

            I gasped, jaw dropping, eyes popping open. A sudden weight blanketed over me, and my heartbeat went slow and cold. The realization chilled me from the inside out, and my left eye started to burn.

            “Alphys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, sometimes, I feel a lot like Undyne here. Trying to untie the hundred or so knots within knots that are going on at a time. Also, I'm starting to think I shouldn't have listed those three precursor stories as side stories. Pretty sure anyone who hasn't read them is getting a little left behind now. Heh, just wait until I start referencing Savior's Flight.


	14. A Meeting of Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vow, even made by the most sincere of hearts, can lead to a darker road.

            I was laying half awake in bed, my eyes closed. The clock said it was only five forty-five, a whole quarter of an hour before Frisk and I usually got up, but I had to check if my condition had made any progress. Doctor’s orders. Considering I was still flat on my back instead of on my feet and celebrating, well, the answer should be obvious. As I slipped back into my internal space, I remembered yesterday’s appointment.

            Namely, how little progress we actually made during it. Alphys tried her hardest to find out what was wrong with me, but all her efforts turned up fruitless. There was nothing wrong with the DT output of the others’ Souls (barring Chara’s, which I made sure was hidden behind a thick veil of energy whenever she looked.) My body wasn’t melting like the Amalgamates’, which was her most immediate fear. My physical matter base, which I fought fang-and-claw to ignore most of the time, wasn’t rotting. She considered injecting me with a sample of outside DT briefly, probably Frisk’s, but the memory of the last time she did that sort of thing out of panic made her drop the plan entirely.

            In the end, my condition, what I actually was, was beyond her knowledge. I wasn’t really a monster anymore, my magic and form coming from human Determination. Even so, I wasn’t a human either. The sum total of my physical matter was little more than a wilted buttercup. The real problem was that I really didn’t have a Soul anymore. My being was transferred from what was my Soul to my dust when I died, then to the flowerbed I collapsed onto. Without a proper Soul, her expertise in the area fell flat, her cumulative frame of reference holding nothing for a case like mine.

            In the end, she could only send me home with the advanced promise that she would be working tirelessly with what data she could scrounge up from my conglomerative form. I would’ve crossed my fingers if I could move my hands at all.

            “Hey, chin up, buddy.” I opened my eyes, back in my energy pool alongside Cliff. “Your pals’ll find a way outta this mess. They always do.” I smiled, nodding my head. The fact that I had fingers to fail to cross at all was a testament to that.

            “Yeah, you’re probably right, but it’s still kind of disappointing. I thought I was done with being a prisoner in my own skin, you know?”

            “Of course, darling, of course.” There was a light touch on my other shoulder. Lily smiled softly, staring out into the colorful nothing around us. “In the meantime, you know you can rely on us to uphold your good name among the masses. Isn’t that right, brother mine?” Cliff opened his mouth to reply, but another voice cut into the conversation.

            “Honestly, after spilling the beans yesterday, my faith’s a little shaky on that front.” The voice was high pitched and scratchy. Cliff and Lily shivered at it, but I found myself both surprised and happy to hear it again. I flipped myself around, Chara floating towards us with both hands in their pockets. Their movement was slow and careful, like they were trying not to spook a flock of birds. “Hey, bro. Did you miss me?” If I had a mirror on hand, I would’ve seen myself smiling like a dope, so no, not at all. I was about to play it cool and snide like that, but a thoroughly annoyed Lily beat me to it.

            “Why yes, we dearly missed the one responsible for sending our gracious host into the spiritual equivalent of cardiac arrest. How could you tell?” Her tongue was every bit as sharp as Chara’s knife, and the way their confidence cracked told me that it was more than enough to slice through their false front. Their eyes fell, and their trademark smile wilted. It almost felt like she was stabbing something vital to me, too.

            “Don't you think that’s a little harsh?”

            “No, Asriel, she has every right. I was a dumbass and a jerk, I get that now.” Their shoulders dropped, and the mask gave way to full contemplation. “I took a few steps back, and I saw that I was just trying to look out for myself, in a way. The only person I can really attach to around here is you. Not Flowey, _you_. I guess the idea of losing that one person just made me flip out, and for that, I’m sorry.” They bent over, bowing to both me and Cliff and Lily. “If you really want to help them get their own bodies, I won’t stop you.”

            That statement coming out of them caught me off guard. Back before all of this craziness, they would’ve never stopped to admit their mistakes so easily. I smiled to myself, glad to see that they were making progress.

            “I should apologize, too.” Chara’s eyes widened as I grabbed their arms, and I almost hesitated to look at them head on. “I was so wrapped up in doing right by them that I completely forgot about doing right by you. I’m leaving the offer open, I don’t have the heart to take back something like that, but, from now on, I promise to let you in whenever I’m thinking about something like that. Nobility’s honor.” The staring contest persisted for a while longer, ending only when Chara snickered.

            “Dude, I spend all that time trying to think up how to make it up to you, and you go and say you’re the one to blame? Do you know how backwards this all feels?” I almost backpedalled, trying to find a way to reword it for their sake, but they overpowered me and pulled me into a hug before I could take another crack at it. “Apology accepted, you fur ball.” I could feel my eyes moistening a little as I hugged them back.

            “Apology accepted, you maniac.” One more good squeeze and we both let go, floating back so we weren’t nose-to-nose. Behind me, Cliff had faded partially out of existence, but he was fully back soon after.

            “Hate to break up the reunion, but we’ve got five minutes till six. The two of us need to get rollin’ if we’re gonna keep our act going.” I was about to follow him to the platforms under the Souls when Chara grabbed my wrist, holding me in place.

            “Like I said, that might not be the best idea. We should focus on getting the real Asriel back in charge as soon as possible.” Cliff’s expression was one of flat annoyance.

            “You know, we’d’ve thought of that sooner if we had even an inkling of what’s wrong with ‘em. Plain fact is that we don’t and that his body’s needed out there if we don't want folks to think something’s wrong.” Chara’s confidence was back, capped by a prideful smile.

            “Good thing I was doing more than holding a pity party for myself then, isn’t it?” Chara crossed their legs, sitting like a wise chieftain. “I did a little looking into the layers beneath the layers. The plain so intimately woven into the fabric of Asriel’s being that it would take normal people decades of practice to reach it.” They winked, detracting a little from the wisdom. “Good thing I've been in the game so long, for once at least.”

            “So, as it turns out, we’re all connected to that tiny bit of physical matter Asriel has. It’s his spirit’s link to our Determination, which he needs to function. The body has us either way, so it’s fine, but his spirit needs equal access to function at full power.” Cliffs eyebrows knitted together in thought.

            “Did something go and split the ties?” Chara nodded, but only slightly.

            “If by ties you mean tie, and if by something you mean someone picking a fight that didn’t need to be fought, then yeah. Turns out, us coming to blows was enough to sever the link between my Soul and your core, separating our beings and depriving you of necessary DT.” I felt a small flutter of hope, these few minutes giving me way more answers than the several hours at Alphys’s lab.

            “So, how do we fix it?” Chara pointed downwards, towards their red Soul at the center of them all.

            “Easy, we just need to manually reestablish the link, and the easiest way to do that is for your spirit…” They moved their hand, now pointing at me. “…Or at least this manifestation of it, to remain in direct contact with my Soul long enough for the wavelengths, for lack of a better term, to match each other. From there, it would only take a blink of an eye to hook us up again. You get your full serving of DT back, and you’ll be sturdy enough to take control in the physical world again.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Chara was the foremost expert on the function of Souls, so if they said it would work, it would work.

            “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s…” Cliff put a hand on my shoulder, eyeing Chara suspiciously.

            “Hold it there, partner. How do we know this isn't some big, elaborate scheme? Last I checked, makin’ deals with you never turns out peachy for anyone.” Lily was every bit as suspicious, slowly moving so Cliff was between her and Chara. I would’ve rebuked them for it if they didn’t have a personal history with them to draw the conclusion from.

            “How about this. That alarm will be going off in about two minutes. When it does, Frisk will get up. We’ll tell them exactly what’s going on and make sure they know that you don’t trust me here. That way, if I do happen to be planning something, I’ll have to do it around the one person who knows exactly how to disarm me, who also happens to be a text away from having the strongest guy in town at their side. Does that sound fair?” Cliff thought about it as deeply as he could, and, after glancing at Lily for confirmation, nodded hesitantly.

            “Alright, I suppose that’ll do.” He let go of me, the look in his eyes apologetic before he set his barely restrained anger back on Chara. “But remember, you do something nasty, and so help me…”

            “Off with my head, right?” Cliff's eyes narrowed, his amicability only going so far. “It’s a good thing I’m not planning anything of the sort. Maybe me being a good little demon here will finally prove as much.” They shook their head, laughing quietly to themself. “But I can’t really blame you either way. Oh well, one step at a time.” My hands were tied, caught between my love for Chara and my understanding of what they put Cliff and Lily through. No amount of my insistence would change the justifiable animosity they held for them. Chara waved me over, burying their self reflection for the moment. “Come on, bro, the sooner we get our wavelengths matching, the sooner you get your hands back.” I smiled at the thought, day dreaming about the pancakes I had been so rudely kept from the morning before.

            The closer we got to their Soul, the warmer the energy streams felt. It was a bigger change than normal, almost like they had preheated it for me. The surface was still damaged and stained a grayish brown in spots, but the cracks seemed to be receding with time. Chara reached out towards it, their arm sinking in down to the wrist as the surface around it glowed dark pink. The light spread out from there, stopping when it was about the size and shape of a doorway.

            “A little forewarning, once you step inside, you’ll probably be hit by a wave of exhaustion. That’s normal, and it’ll pass in time. Whether you sleep through it or not is up to you, but I get the feeling you won’t have much of a choice.” I appreciated the honesty, and I laughed to lighten the mood.

            “I won’t dream about your memories or something, will I?” They snorted, matching my small amusement.

            “Don’t worry, I shoveled those out of the way ahead of time. It should just be a nice, warm rest. You royal types like heated blankets anyway, right?” I raised an eyebrow, running a claw through my thick fur in lieu of saying it aloud. They rolled their eyes and tapped their foot. I guess I had stalled long enough.

            Cautiously, I stuck a hand in first. The inside was somewhere between a heavy gas and a thick gel, though the warmth made it more comforting than anything. It was like that feeling you get when you stand right in front of a heat vent. My arm sank in deeper until it enveloped my shoulder. I noticed my fingers were getting less responsive, like my hand had fallen asleep ahead of the rest of me.

            My head phased in soon after, and I had to squint at first to acclimate to the change in lighting. Everything was red, almost like when Chara's anger seeped into the physical form of whoever they were possessing, but the constant warmth kept me from reacting negatively to it. I didn’t notice as the rest of my body followed, my eyes already growing heavy. The red light was fading away into darkness when I heard Chara’s whispering voice.

            “Sweet dreams, Asriel. You might need them soon enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit smaller than usual, but it's either that or I go back to that old, confusing style of throwing the camera to a new character to extend the length. Yeah, this was the better option.


	15. The Performer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An actor on the stage is a delight. Two in the audience is anything but.

            The morning alarm found you already wide awake. In truth, you had been up for the last ten minutes or so. It gave you and Gaster a bit more time to make your normal morning checks, but you couldn’t help but worry a little. There was a presence in the air that you didn’t like, but you couldn't pin down why. Gaster had already scanned the room thoroughly, both in the physical and metaphysical sense, and turned up nothing, so what had you so on edge?

            _‘It may be an omen of things to come. I assure you that I will raise the alarm as soon as I find something that corroborates your gut feeling.’_ You nodded, silently thanking him for his support over the last few months. You might have driven yourself mad ages ago without a second pair of eyes to help you.

            You looked over to Asriel’s bed, and, through blurry eyes, you saw him, or at least whoever was controlling his body, reaching for the blaring alarm clock. They pressed the off button, careful not to scratch it with their claw, and rubbed the sleep from their eyes with their other hand. Well, whoever it was, you figured there was only one way to properly start the day.

            “Morning. Sleep well?” They sat up, reaching for the ceiling and spreading their shoulders wide.

            “Like a rock.” You almost gasped, their voice an exact match for Asriel’s, but reigned it in when your thinking mind caught up. Clearly it was just them practicing to be him for the day. The gasp broke through again when they opened their eyes, a sidelong view of red irises sparking your hopes up.

            “Asriel, that you?” They grinned, but not in an Asriel way. It was more confident, possibly even egotistical, and they made no effort to hide it.

            “Pretty good imitation, right?” They turned your way, and the more direct view let you see the shade better. Asriel’s red was softer, like a warm hearth. This red was harsh, a forest fire in action.

            _‘I’m not sure if you would count it, but…’_ You didn’t need him to finish his statement to know what he meant. You perked your ears, making sure no one was in the hall. When all you heard was the steady breathing of Greater Dog at your door, you let your guard drop.

            “Thought you were hiding, Chara?” They pushed their blankets off, hopping up to their feet with a huff. They were careful not to look you directly in the eye, aware of the effect it might have on you before you were prepared.

            “I was, but now I’m not. Isn’t it great how things change sometimes?” They certainly seemed to be in an upbeat mood, but they hadn’t quite answered the heart of your question. “There are a few things you might want to hear. First, Asriel and me made up. Things between us are cool again, and it should stay that way for a long time.” Neat. It was always nice to hear a damaged relationship was mended. “Second, I know exactly what’s wrong with him and we’re already fixing it.” Your eyes widened, and a hundred questions bubbled to the surface.

            “I’ll have to explain later. Toriel’s already downstairs making breakfast, and we shouldn’t keep her waiting. Rule one of being public enemy number one, act natural. You’re helping hide me, so you need to abide by the rules just as much.” You deflated at the denial, but you understood what they meant. “Third, if we want things to go smoothly, Asriel will have to be out of commission for a couple of days. The others were concerned I’d try something while he was out, so…” You nodded, seeing their thought process perfectly. They wouldn’t have to worry about an uprising with you in the know.

            “If it helps, I trust you.” They smiled warmly, an expression that, though unusual from them, seemed to flow as naturally as their most threatening sneer.

            “Yeah, it helps. A lot.” They coughed lightly, tapping their throat twice. “Welp, we shouldn’t keep Mom waiting too long. Race you down!” They threw the door open, scratching the half asleep and slightly startled Greater behind his ear before making an excited break for the stairs. You slipped out of your sheets, chuckling quietly to yourself.

            “Hey, wait up!” You gave the somewhat more awake Greater a more thorough pet, giving you time to wink at him to make sure he knew that you knew. He winked back while licking your cheek, and the loop was closed again.

            By the time you made it to the kitchen, Mom had already spotted that ‘Asriel’s’ red eye color had returned, though she wasn’t observant enough to catch the slightly off hue. Either that or she was too happy to notice, squeezing him in a hug that would’ve made a lesser person squeak like a rubber duck.

            “My child, you are back!” They wheezed pitifully as she shook them in her glee.

            “Mom, can’t….” You could see the barest hint of a blush through her fur as she loosened her grip, lowering him back to the floor.

            “Ahem, pardon me, I am just…" A bubble popped on the frying pan behind her, showering the back of her robe in flecks of burning grease, though she only seemed to notice the sound. She quickly turned back to her cooking, though it was more likely to escape the awkward moment than anything hazard related. “I take it you were able to figure out what went wrong?” You quietly paced into the kitchen, using your natural neutral presence to not intrude on the conversation.

            “Well, we’re not really sure, but we think something might have interrupted my absorption of the others’ Determination, like when humans get their veins constricted and their arm falls asleep.” Outwardly, you showed no signs of disagreement, but you were certain they were censoring themself. The details they did drop, however, were enough to piece a few key points together. Determination absorption was involved, and, since they felt the need to be vague, you also had reason to believe that they were directly involved somehow.

            “Hmm, it would make sense, I suppose, speaking as someone with little knowledge of the subject of course. That would still leave the question of what caused the disruption.” Chara went somewhat somber, like someone who was trying to figure something deeply mysterious out.

            “Maybe it’s because everyone in here is still fighting with something. Doubts like that cut the output of pure Determination pretty heavily.” Did it have something to do with the fight they had with Asriel? It did happen the night before Asriel’s immobility.

            “If that is the case, then it is quite fortunate that Doctor Baker offered his services to all of you. Speaking of which, do not forget that you have an appointment this afternoon.” She handed them a plate, and you could tell what was on it by scent alone. It was a heavy, meaty aroma, thick with a layer of exotic spices.

            “Snail bacon?” Mom jolted a bit, not expecting your input on account of her not knowing you were even in the room.

            “Goodness, Frisk! You certainly spend a great deal of time with Sans, do you not?” She handed you a plate of your own, and the increasing proximity between you and your breakfast only amplified its heavenly smell. If you weren’t a better natured individual, you would have drooled at the sight of the thick, crispy strips of grey and white.

            “Thanks, Mom!” You carried your bounty to the dining room table as quickly as politely possible, but Chara had already finished by the time you arrived. They reclined in their chair, rubbing their stomach.

            “Mm, man, I missed eating my own food!” Mom chuckled, offloading several more strips from her still sizzling pan.

            “In that case, have as much as you would like.” Chara’s eyes lit up, their smile almost popping under the strain of sheer joy.

            “Thank you, Mom!”

 

-

 

            “Ugh, thanks a lot, Toriel.” Chara was melting against the side of the school, the weight of their slightly distended stomach dragging them down as you rubbed their back. “How do you and Asriel actually like all this snail stuff?” You shrugged, not entirely understanding why they didn’t, much less why it made them so nauseous that they would skip lunch in favor of dry heaving outside.

            “An acquired taste?” They sighed bitterly.

            “Now there’s a status effect I don’t want to catch. No offense.”

            “So, I take it Asriel is back in the house?” Pierce rounded the corner, using his knitted cap to hide his sweep for unwanted interruptions. The look in his eyes was one of ravenous curiosity.

            “It depends, I guess. Who’s that behind you?” Chara’s ears were twitching, and their suspicions were confirmed when Brutus lumbered into view.

            “Pierce said Asriel and Frisk keeping secrets again. Thought we talked about already?” You could feel that ever growing pot of regrets in your gut starting to bubble.

            “Matter of royal security. Sorry.” Brutus nodded, though he didn’t look nearly satisfied yet. Pierce was even less so, plopping down cross legged a few feet from you. Brutus took a seat next to him, leaving you in a tightly packed square.

            “So then, if memory serves, your friend promised you guys would spill the beans. Let’s have it. What went wrong, and, while we’re at it, how’d that other guy copy you so well?” You fully expected Chara to keep their act going, telling them the same vague version of the truth they gave Mom and a diet version of Asriel’s condition and move on. Instead, they let loose a laugh. An unnerving laugh that had no place coming from Asriel. Pierce’s eyebrow went up, and Brutus shivered, like he could almost recognize it himself.

            “Sorry, but you’re trying to cash a faulty check. The conditions for the promise haven’t been filled.” You hid the shock, the way your heart froze, at the familiar undertone worming its way out from their Asriel facade. Pierce’s expression was one of outrage, but he knew to keep his voice down.

            “What are you talking about? Red eyes equal Asriel. No other monster subspecies is capable of having that eye color. I know, I checked.” Chara threw both of their arms behind their head, relaxing like they were in complete control.

            “That’s true. No other monster species can falsify the royal family’s eye color. But the fact remains, I’m not Asriel. Do you really think the softie could ever be so demeaning to anyone, much less his friends?” It was a fair point, and Pierce’s dampened aggression showed that it passed his check, too. Brutus’s eyes narrowed.

            “Still not say how stranger copied Asriel. Who is stranger?” Chara crossed their legs, closing their eyes.

            “So Pierce, you remember how Cliff nearly had a heart attack talking about one of the other body doubles? The one he said could do unspeakable things to you if they had a reason?” Pierce was many things, but dense wasn’t one. You saw that fear from the day prior reigniting, his fight or flight instincts screaming at him for just sitting there. He settled for tapping his fingers anxiously on his knee.

            “Y-yeah. What about it?” Chara’s smile went downright wicked, a sneer that could cut through even the sternest stoic’s resolve.

            “So, who wants a lesson on monster history?” They fully melted into their recline, eyes closing as their body lost all muscular tension. “Until Frisk came along, monsters fought night and day to find a way to shatter the Barrier that entrapped them. They knew, however, that it was built specifically to repel monster magic, the only means they had of striking it. The solution then was obvious, though quite difficult to accomplish.”

            “Seven humans created the Barrier. Seven humans could destroy it. With the power stored within seven human Souls, it was believed that they could overpower it, breaking open the route to the surface. But how would they collect the Souls? There were none already in the Underground, and to mimic even one would take the raw magic from every monster in existence, give or take a few.”

            “Over time, though, the answer came to them. It was an odd trend. Every now and then, a pair of humans would fall from above. No one knew why, and no one cared enough to ask. Soon, these unfortunate few would perish, leaving behind their Souls. The monsters didn’t have it in them to waste such a precious resource, so they stored them for later, awaiting the day a seventh would fall into their hands.” They opened one eye, staring sidelong at you. You didn’t know if you should stop them or if leaving it at what was already out would be worse. Your nervousness apparently showed, quick glances your way making Brutus and Pierce sweat.

            “A seventh did, eventually, fall, but this one was different. This one was too kind to kill and too smart to get themself killed. In the end, it didn’t really matter. A new entity, neither monster nor human, appeared alongside them. This entity had aspirations of power, a thirst for control. He took the six human Souls for his own, and the monsters’ followed shortly after.”

            “This entity was gleeful, at first. They thought they had won with only the one remaining human, the newly fallen one, to stand in their way. But, through kindness and grit, this human outlasted him. His madness waned, and, in recompense, he used his immense strength to shatter the Barrier. He released the monsters, both from the Underground and himself, and, left in a form that he knew would deteriorate back into mania, he retreated to the deepest depths of the Underground.” His attention shifted, looking to Brutus. “You would know the being that remained as Flowey.”

            “Flower did all that?” Brutus’s confused fear morphed into a cautious enthrallment in the story. Pierce, however, was still confused.

            “You know who he’s on about?”

            “Yes. Flower attacked Frisk months ago. Brutus thinks they had human Souls with then. Flower kept those?” Chara nodded.

            “Yep. The six Souls were inert, silent, but still remained a massive source of power. Flowey held onto them, both as a reminder of his penance and a safety measure against any who would abuse their power. He would have told you it was for his sake, but he’s a known liar. That’s ‘he’s’ as in ‘he was,’ by the way.” Brutus’s eyes widened.

            “What happened to flower?”

            “The reversal only occurred because they lost too much power to maintain their true state when they released the monsters. All it would take was one more human Soul’s worth of energy to raise them back to how they should be.” Chara sat back up, gripping their chest and pulling. Their sweater parted, the flesh beneath it following. Beneath their skin was a pool of blinding white energy, and at the bottom, six Souls beat slowly. This was going way too far now!

            “What are you…?” Brutus’s understanding gasp silenced you.

            “You are flower!?”

            “Ooh, not quite, but you’re pretty freaking warm!” They chuckled under their breath. “Asriel actually has a lot in common with these things, you know. He technically died a long time ago. His dust spread on a field of buttercups, infusing them with the remnants of his being. When one of those flowers gained the will to live on its own, he was reborn. I’m not Flowey. _He_ was. I’m one of the guys keeping him from going back. Get it yet?” Brutus went quiet, gobsmacked by the reveal. The insane, violent plant was one of his good friends? Pierce leaned in close, eyes widened in amazement.

            “You’re… you’re one of the human Souls, and you’re using his body? Is that why your disguise is so good?” Chara nodded again.

            “There you go! But hold on, didn’t I just say Flowey needed seven Souls to be Asriel again?” They waved a hand in front of the rift, a magician getting ready to grab the rabbit from their hat. “Look closely, kiddies, we don’t show this to everyone.” The veil parted, the thin layer that hid the last Soul from view. It took its place at the center of the circle, its blood red glow the crowning gem of the collection. His grin was vicious once more, and his fur fell away, strand by strand, vanishing into white mist.

            “Six Souls awoke in his being. Lily, Cliff, Sherri, Bill, John, Terry. A seventh joined them, harnessing their energy to bring their dear brother to life once again. _I_ am the seventh. I am…” The rest of their fur vanished, cloaking their transformation. When the smoke cleared, sitting in Asriel’s place was a seemingly human child, pale skin and light brown hair’s innocence contrasting with the malevolence in their eyes. Brutus was on his feet in an instant, every muscle in his body as tense as stone.

            “Chara!” He grabbed them by the neck, smashing them against the school wall hard enough to crack it. He raised his other hand in a fist, ready to start waling on them.

            “Stop! They’re not that one, not that one!” You had to jump to grab his arm, halting his attack and dragging it down to your level. He struggled against your superior strength for a moment before turning an eye to you, panic and anger battling inside him.

            “Right, right, should’ve remembered that you helped fight that one copycat. Of course Frisk would’ve given you the whole story about them and me.” Their voice was strangely normal, unburdened by the hand crushing their windpipe. “For future reference, we don’t really need to breath. We’re just a big blob of Determination molded to look like a goat. Or a murderous sociopath, in my case.” That phrasing didn’t help Brutus’s out of control aggression at all, his efforts to crush the life out of them redoubling.

            “You not fooling Brutus. Frisk told Brutus all about time travel, about how Chara killed entire world.”

            “Time travel? Killing the world? What the Hell’s going on!?” You had to reach back and grab Pierce’s arm, keeping him from running away as he jumped to his feet.

            “Hey, you wanted to know everything about my brother, and now you’re getting it, whether you like it or not.” Chara was still unnervingly calm, and it resonated with that one memory you tried the hardest to forget. “By the way, squeal about any of this and I can’t promise you’ll get out alive. In fact, I can promise the exact opposite. Nothing’s stopping me from burning you into unidentifiable ashes right here and now.”

            You were getting tired. Brutus was still trying to pulverize them. Pierce was fighting against your iron clad grip. Chara wouldn't stop provoking and threatening them. And your head was about to burst. Your gaze locked on theirs, and everything went red.

            “Stop it!” Your voice echoed off itself, two tones synced into one, and Chara’s confidence vanished. Concern took them over as the world reclaimed its proper colors and your strength faltered. Your knees gave out, letting you drop as your hold on your friends was relinquished. Brutus stumbled over his own feet as the object of his anger broke free, throwing him out of the way as they rushed to your side. Their arms wrapped around you, holding you up despite the will of gravity.

            “Damnit, Frisk, why didn’t you tell me a relapse was coming? I would’ve stopped!”

            “Between you and those guys, I didn’t have a chance.” Your voice was as slurred as your thoughts, though you could just barely catch the last echoes of Chara’s voice leaving your own. Your brain felt like it was going to explode, and everyone could tell. Brutus moved in to assist, but Chara stopped him with a single, worried look, though it was covered with a mask of calmness.

            “Look, I am the Chara that they told you about, but I’m on the mend. Senseless murder is off the menu, I promised them and Asriel that. I just wanted to scare you two into keeping your mouths shut, otherwise your deaths won’t be senseless. Got it?” There were still hints of anger in his movements, but it was outweighed by his concern for you.

            “Fine. Brutus agrees to ceasefire if Chara does.” Chara nodded, moving their attention to Pierce.

            “I know I made more questions than I answered for you, since you’re out of the loop and all. If the big guy can’t answer them all, look for Sans and mention me by name. He’ll help you out, if only to keep the peace.” Pierce was still a few shuddering breaths from fainting, but he nodded, too. Their loose ends tied, Chara molded their form, changing back to the shape of Asriel. “Come on, Frisk, we need to get you to the nurse. Should I call Alphys while I’m at it?” You shook your head, their change back to Asriel’s tone already taking a lot of the pressure off.

            “No just… just try not to…” Your strength petered out, your body going limp against them. The world around you became white noise as your mind shut down.

 

-

 

            In what felt like a blink of your eyes, you found yourself staring up at a sterile white ceiling. You recognized it as the drywall above the bed in the nurse’s office, and the smooth, kind of cheap bedsheets covering you reinforced your theory.

            _‘You gave us quite the scare, you know.’_ Gaster’s voice was soft, padding around your sensitive psyche.

            _‘Sorry. Didn’t think I’d pass out like that.’_

            _‘Actually, I expected that much, but that’s not what I’m referring to. You know what I mean, correct?’_ You sighed, the roughness of your throat turning it into a groan. _‘You really must take more care not to slip into old habits like that. Had I not been running interference on your behalf, I’m afraid you could have…’_

            _‘Yeah, I know. I know.’_ Better than anyone, at that. Deep in the pit of your Soul, you could still feel that nauseating presence. Its intent scraped against the walls of its cage, held back only by the combined will of you and Gaster. The smallest acknowledgment of its presence hardened its resolve, the assault on your being growing more crazed by the moment. You buried it beneath as much Determination as you could spare, muffling it from your thoughts.

            _‘I must ask again; is your reformation project of enough importance to risk your very sanity on?’_ You nodded without hesitation.

            _‘Old Chara wouldn’t have warned them. They’re getting better, bit by bit.’_

_‘I suppose I must concede to that much. I was impressed they didn’t reach for their knife when Brutus laid a hand on them.’_

_‘Wait, knife?’_ You had seen them getting dressed that morning, including the contents of their pockets. They hadn’t packed so much as a rusty needle by your account.

            _‘It’s a faint presence, but there’s no mistaking the killing intent resonating from them. Their old weapon of mass destruction is stashed away somewhere within their malleable form, likely one of their forearms or thighs. They’ve been constantly armed from the moment Asriel returned.’_ No, no, it couldn’t have been. You hadn’t told anyone where you had stashed it, not even Gaster! You had to go, check the box. That thing couldn’t be…

            …No. You knew it was still sealed tight. No one else knew how to get it open. No one else _could_ get it open. You had been thorough. Of all your preventative measures, none were so careful as this one. No one could be allowed to know where it was. You couldn’t let it see the light of day again. You had to play it cool, before he noticed.

            _‘They’ve gone this long without killing anyone, even with their knife. They’ve worked hard to get this far, and I won’t give up on them.’_

_‘Very well, I will differ to your judgment. Though I do plan on giving them a lecture on their… methods of persuasion. One wrong move from anyone earlier could have had disastrous consequences, and that analysis is presuming that neither Brutus nor Pierce decide to tell someone of higher authority about it. It would not be entirely unreasonable to do so.’_ You nodded, the same worry gnawing at you.

            _‘I’ll wait a few days to Save. Give us a buffer.’_

            “Are you awake, darling?” You were pulled from your shared thinking space, just then noticing that Mettaton had been pacing on the far side of the room. He kneeled down to you, placing a hand on your forehead. “Well, you’re not running a fever, so that’s a good sign.”

            “Fevers aren’t a symptom for relapses.”

            “Oh, then it’s even better that you’re not running one. Pardon me, I just noticed that your were sweating quite profusely when I arrived, so I presumed…” Must’ve been you straining against… No, not even going to think about it.

            “How’d you know I was in here?” He pulled up a chair, hefting one leg up to lay across the other.

            “I was in the neighborhood and noticed Asriel carrying you around the school. I volunteered to keep an eye on you so our dear prince could return to his classes, and here I am!” He stood up, stretching like he was in a photoshoot, winking at you as though you were the camera.

            “Now then, I propose that you, darling, need the rest of the day off.” You opened your mouth, about to raise an objection. You had classes to attend, after all. “Tut tut, I already asked your mother for permission and rescheduled our spa appointment. You have such difficulty letting loose on your own, so now I've taken the liberty of relieving you of the choice. You will be relaxing in a sauna within the hour whether you want to or not, and I assure you that you do.” You could only chuckle a little at the performance, but you couldn’t find too much fault in his reasoning. You had been a bit high strung as of late, so maybe starting your day away from it all a few hours early wasn’t a bad idea. “So, should we start with the pedi-manis or the deep tissue massages?”

            The next few minutes passed while you and Metta put the finishing touches on your day plan, your relaxed excitement for the afternoon to come helping you forget the weight of the world crashing down atop you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would've been up around noon, but I had a birthday party to attend. It would've been up before I left, but I just got my hands on Persona 5. For once, I'm thankful my controller ran out of power, or I might've forgotten entirely. A little ironic, considering the plot of P4. The game all about the danger of information overload.


	16. Dagger in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take care when you brandish your blade in the shadows. You never know when someone's there with you.

            The last half a week had been a massive pain in the vertebra. I made a point of not showing it, but being pushed to use my full power multiple days in a row was starting to get to me. For as reckless as Undyne could be, she was still the Captain of the Guard for a reason. Her killing intent, even for training, was intense, and anything less than my best wouldn’t play out well for me.

            To make matters worse, I was stuck with the news that my worst enemy was now the one pretending to be Az, and their acting was so on point that almost everyone besides me, Frisk, and Greater Dog thought it was actually him. I knew Frisk had their eye on them most of the day, but word had just gotten out that they’d relapsed and were taking a nap in the nurse’s office. Gee, I wonder if the person who traumatized them in the first place had any part in that. Oh well, as long as they didn’t do anything we’d all regret in the meantime…

            “Hey, Sans, you busy?” I woke up from my half sleep, that one human kid with the black hat and purple hair leaning against the wall beside me. The big guy, in turn, was next to him, and he was scanning the room.

            “well, technically i'm watchin’ over lunch, but hey, i don’t think you’ll be burnin’ down the building in ten minutes.” I leered cautiously towards the smoking area of the cafeteria, where a vulkin was playing jump rope with a pyrope. “most of you, anyway. you need something?” Brute nodded to Pierce, who then nodded to me.

            “Yeah, I have a few questions to ask, and a… an acquaintance of yours said you’d help me out.” He was a voracious learner, after all. I thought he was just curious about skeleton biology, but it was best to make sure before making a quip about there being books for that. But how to ask in a way that wouldn’t give away the joke, that was the real question.

            “i am a bit on the worldly side. who pointed you two my way?” The way he leaned in close was kind of unnerving, and it only got worse when he whispered in my not ear.

            “Chara.” I suddenly felt frostbite eating at me despite my lack of skin. “Yeah, we found out about them the hard way, and now I feel the need to ask someone what the actual Hell is going on in this kingdom of yours?” All of my carefully bottled frustrations were bubbling, their containers shaken by this new leak. A part of me considered asking the kid to pull a Reset, but that might not’ve been the best call this soon after an episode. No, I needed to actually deal with my problem.

            Using blue magic, I nudged a stack of trays by the lunch line on the far side of the room over, sending them to the floor with a big, echoey smack. The noise drew everyone’s attention away from us, and I used the opening to grab them both and send us somewhere more secure. When we rematerialized, Brute was just kind of dazed, and Pierce was on the verge of tossing his cookies.

            “trash can’s over by the fridge. if you’re gonna be sick, do it in there.” I passed by the light switch, flipping it on and illuminating my hidden lab. I flopped back first on my big, plush chair, putting my feet up on the coffee table. “got some drinks on ice there. help yourself and don’t worry about coasters. i never use ‘em anyway.” Brute used his size and muscle to hold his pal straight, guiding him to the couch. Neither bothered to get anything for themselves on the way. Pierce’s eyes, though drowning in a wave of post teleportation nausea, were sharply focused on me.

            “welp, straight to business then. what’d you want to know?”

 

-

 

            The air was unnervingly tense in the shrink’s office. I hid behind one of the bookshelves, watching his session with the kid wearing Az’s skin from a crack in the books, and I was simmering. If I hadn’t gotten oaths of silence out of those two before letting them loose, they might’ve went and leaked everything to everyone. That, in turn, could’ve killed the timeline. My mind was made up. Until Frisk was back to supervise them, hopefully a little more cautiously this time, I would have to keep tabs on them.

            Granted this was the one guy we could afford to let secrets slip to, but it was best if we had a plan B. I had thought that they had the sense to not let their existence creep into the spotlight, so now all assumptions were off the table.

            “Yes, of course, it’s important to keep your word, but I would’ve thought you, of all people, would try to keep things vague. You only begrudgingly tell me anything, and you already know I won’t go ratting you out." Pauly’s questioning was as laid back as ever, a casual sip from his root beer punctuating the stretches of speaking and note taking.

            “I figured they'd just keep bugging us about it until they got what they wanted, so I gave them it and then some. Maybe they’d let it drop if I showed them what sort of fight they were trying to force themselves into. It could’ve worked if Frisk hadn’t..." Their annoyed passiveness wilted, something the doc probably bookmarked for later.

            “I’d say it’s about time we picked up where we left off. You were telling me about when Asriel showed you around Waterfall, right?” The weakness in their frame shook off, their scowl looking less than cooperative.

            “Actually, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask you about. It’s not me related, I don’t think so at least, but a few answers might help me in the long run.” He looked surprised, though it was tempered with gratitude to have a potential shortcut to a breakthrough.

            “Alright, shoot.”

            “You remember back when we were fighting Hedon over in your library? How the lights way up top were all out?”

            “Yeah, kind of hard to forget when a demon comes through and wrecks most of your stuff. You wouldn’t believe how expensive all that was to replace.” Chara rolled their eyes, less than amused by the joking.

            “Well, I think there’s a hole in my perspective that you can fill. See, while I was on the ground keeping the guy pinned, I noticed something up in the rafters. There were some weird eyes up there. Eyes that were glowing blue. You were up there, too, so I have to ask…”

            “What was with you up there that could channel magic?” I could hear the pages between me and them slowly decaying, the lack of noise rubbing all of my ribs the wrong way.

            “Sorry, but I really don’t know what you’re talking…”

            “Cut the crap!” Chara was on their feet, leaving the therapy couch behind. “I know there’s more to you than there seems. You’re just like that skeleton, cool and friendly on the outside, as conniving as a serial killer on the in. And this office…” They rubbed a hand along the frame of the couch, plucking at every loose stitch they came across.

            “No, more like this whole building, it’s _humming_.” What? I was pressed pretty tightly between two fixtures of the place, and I couldn’t hear a thing. Were they finally losing what little sanity they had left? “Every time I walk in here, it’s like someone’s dumping every word in existence into my head at once, but on such a low volume that I have to focus to make it sound like anything besides static. Even when I do concentrate, it’s only gibberish and nonsense. World composition this, control to freedom ratio that, what’s up with this place?” Their irritation was swelling quickly, the building anger making them shake and twitch erratically. I hadn’t so much as blinked when their disguise vanished, the red eyed demon I had known for so long breaking free.

            “More importantly, what’s up with you? You didn’t so much as bat an eye when that mulched purse attacked, and you already had weapons in place like you were expecting him. Why else would you have a golden spear on hand to throw right when the kid with lightning powers showed up? Why else would you have a handgun on you when you had just woken up from a nap? I sure as heck didn’t see any vaults in there you could’ve plucked it from. Who just randomly keeps a loaded gun in his pocket? Who doesn’t lose their mind from hearing people like me say our own names out loud?”

            Their left palm briefly darkened, the skin pulling apart to reveal a black cavity underneath. The opening was lined with a thin layer of white, like there was something keeping the pocket and the rest of their insides from mixing into one shared space. They reached inside with their right, prying a black, heavy duty handle free from its makeshift sheathe. My lack of breath got stuck in my chest, leaving me to watch in horrified shock as they drew the blade of a knife out with it. Not just any knife, either. No, this one had been plunged into me one too many times to mistake it for any other. They tilted it in front of them, letting the light of the room highlight its sharpened edge before pointing it straight at Pauly.

            “Talk, damnit, or I’ll carve the answers out of your still warm corpse! Tell me, will you bleed, or are you just as hollow as the other guy?” Chara was breathing heavily, almost panting through grit teeth, but Pauly showed no response. Throughout the entire tirade, he hadn’t so much as flinched, the one thing that kept me from reaching out and pinning the maniac to a wall. After a few moments, he slowly set his notes on the corner of his desk, shifting in his reclining chair. One leg went up and crossed over the other. His elbows were planted on his knees, his hands touching by the fingertips in a vaguely triangular way.

            “Oh, you still have that? Hmm, and here I was thinking Frisk would’ve buried it where no one could find it.” Chara’s teeth ground together, their flat edges starting to warp into a much sharper dividing line. “Wait, I get it, that’s a replica, isn’t it? A way for you to physically remind yourself of your past mistakes. Or maybe it’s because you can’t bring yourself to let go?”

            “Shut the Hell up!” Their hair was lengthening, shading over all but the malevolent red glow in their eyes. “There’s still scum up here on the surface, and this helps me trim their numbers. For example, the snake slinking around right in front of me.”

            “Mhm, I see. And I suppose you being comfortable about admitting that little detail is a sign that everyone else inside of your body is asleep? Alright, that might be for the best in this situation.” Chara closed the gap, the tip of their blade one slip up from gliding into his throat. “You’re certain you want to do that?”

            “You’re certain ignoring this world’s greatest monster is a good idea?” The sigh that followed was low key, disappointed, even, and Pauly shook his head.

            “Alright, but let’s make this quick. We only have so much time per session.” The books that hid me rattled from the sonic boom, my teeth shaking in their sockets, and when my eyes stopped jittering, I saw that somewhere in the confusion Pauly had reversed roles. Chara was staring down an empty chair, their would-be target at their back with the barrel of a pistol pressed against the nape of their neck. “I’m pretty sure bullets wouldn’t do all that much to you, but you get the point, right?” The kid was shaking in their sneakers, a drop of sweat dripping from their forehead.

            “How… How did you…?”

            “If you look hard enough, there are little slits in the fabric of space everywhere. Using them to your own benefit can give you the appearance of teleportation. Of course, only people like Sans, who can break themselves down into molecular scale pieces, can get through them without forcing nearby threads to shift suddenly. Though, to my benefit, I only ever need to use them when a sudden shockwave would be useful anyway. Maybe I could show you the ins and outs sometime, after you’re done trying to kill me at least. Speaking of which…” Chara wheeled around, not even bothering with subtlety as they made a wide, unfocused swipe at him.

            Pauly responded in kind, jumping back and pulling the trigger twice. One skid past their face, leaving a thin, steaming line just a nudge away from their eye. The other lodged itself in their right wrist, the pain making their fingers clench down harder around their knife.

            I wasn’t sure who I was with or against at that point. On one hand, I had a history of not liking Chara very much, but, on the other, the doc was clearly hiding something from all of us. I was no stranger to moral ambiguity, but this was the first time I felt pressured to pick a side when there was no black or white in sight.

            If I thought about it logically, Chara had made a promise to Asriel to keep their act together. Asriel was under the direct protection of Frisk, so attacking them was like betraying my pal. Pauly was attacking him, so he was betraying Frisk, and he had a death pact with me that said he wouldn’t do that. But, then again, he was also Frisk's psychiatrist, the only person who had any idea how to try to punch through their problems, and Chara was the instigator in this case. Why did God have to be such a jerk about what situations he put me into?

            A pair of metallic clicks brought me back to the battle. Chara had forced the bullet out of their arm, letting it fall to the ground, and Pauly had his finger on the trigger. Their eyes met, and each took it as a sign that the next move was at hand. Chara threw themselves forward, knife prepped for an unrelenting thrust, as Pauly put the space between their eyes in his sights. In the span of five seconds, one of them would be on the ground, the other skidding by death’s scythe by the skin of their teeth. If I was to have any say in the proceedings, this would be my last chance.

            In the last possible instance, I decided whose side I was on; mine. My eye’s ignition released a wave of energy, sending the bookshelf between me and them toppling. I grabbed it mid fall with blue magic, ripping it apart plank by plank and rearranging it into a wall. I held it firmly between them, the magically reinforced wood weathering both bullet and blade.

            The former was halted entirely, and the latter only managed to push through up to the hilt before it became lodged. When Chara’s grip wavered from the unexpected impact, I ripped both the wall and blade away from them, using it to backhand the gun out of Pauly’s hand. It also smacked him squarely in the face and sent him to the ground, but that was acceptable collateral. One more tug brought both weapons my way, leaving me holding all the power. Chara was wide eyed at my entrance, to say the least, but, possibly busted nose aside, Pauly was unperturbed.

            “Hey there, Sans, we were just talking about you. For curiosity's sake, how long were you back there?”

            “about long enough to see the point of your discussion. gotta hand it to ya, doc, didn’t expect to see this kid getting dunked on today. they’re usually a cut above the rest.”

            “Stop with the puns and help me out here! Whatever he really is, he’s just like Hedon. Come on, give me my knife, you get a blaster, and then the two of us can…” They reached towards me, intent on reclaiming their knife, but I pocketed it before they had the chance.

            “nope. i know better than to let you get armed.” They growled like a collared wolf, but they knew that I was already primed to deal with anything they could throw at me. Pauly seemed content enough with not being attacked, quietly pressing at his nose to make sure it was on right. “so, i think you two owe me some answers. first off, kid, you said this joint was humming, or something crazy like that. what exactly do you mean by…?” My interrogation was interrupted by a ringing alarm, which Pauly was quick to turn off with an offhandedly thrown rubber ball.

            “Sorry, but it looks like our time’s up. I’ve got a really busy schedule to keep up with, so we’ll have to pick this up later.”

            “Like Hell time’s up! I just got here ten minutes ago!” Even disarmed, Chara was downright vicious, their arms and legs starting to stretch out. They were only a few more small changes away from being at their peak form. Fortunately, turning up my internal heat and letting the fire spread to my right socket was enough to pacify them. The doc glanced at the calendar on his desk.

            “Looks like I’ve got an opening at two tomorrow morning. I could pencil you in for a trial consultation then, free of charge, of course.” Heh, if I wasn’t so on edge and suspicious about absolutely everything around me, I’d’ve admitted that he was more than crafty enough to fit in the vitriolic feud between me and my various murderers.

            “alright, doc, two past the witching hour it is.” I flicked the pistol open, ejecting the rest of its unspent clip into my jacket pocket before setting it down on the corpse of his bookshelf. “come on, _asriel_ , we’re gonna find a nice, quiet spot for you to tell me all about today’s appointment. sound good to you?” Their eyes moved between me and him, each viewing of their new opponent making the struggle to restrain their transformation harder. Eventually, they forced their body to give it up, shrinking back to normal size and regrowing their fur, muzzle, and floppy ears.

            “Sure thing, Sans. Let me tell you, it was a real _blast_." If it weren’t for the death glare they were still giving Pauly, they’d’ve been the spitting image of their brother, attitude and all. I relaxed, letting my eye fizzle out before grabbing their shoulder.

            “see you in a bit, doctor baker.” He smiled casually, using the wall to push himself back to his feet. He rubbed his eyes on his coat sleeve.

            “Yep, see you later.” He pulled his arm away, showing off the ethereal blue glow of his eyes. “Judge Serif.” I kept my smile in place as the static overtook me, only letting a single cerulean flicker show my true intent before I sent the kid and myself whizzing through time and space, through a rip in the fabric of the world.

 

-

 

            “Damnit, Sans, what were you thinking!?” I leaned back against my tree, letting the brat scream their frustration away. I had warped us deep enough into a secluded part of the woods on the exact opposite side of Mount Ebott from town, so I wasn’t too worried about them spitting fire, figuratively and literally. I think their teeth were starting to glow red from the intense heat, including those weird lip teeth Boss monsters had. “I thought you would be one of the only people with enough sense to crush a problem where it stands, not let it keep doing its thing! Look where it got you in damn near every other timeline!”

            “yep, problem solving’s my thing. just need to figure out where the problem is first. is it the suspicious doctor who’s been giving frisk some real keen advice or the murderer who promises they’re very sorry?” They clenched their fists, and I would imagine they were contemplating socking me square in the face. “start from the beginning. law says you need evidence to accuse someone of a crime, after all.”

            “Fine, is that how you want to do this? Then I accuse that rat of withholding information and obstructing an investigation. That good enough for you?” It was a start.

            “again, we need some proof if we’re gonna take this anywhere.” They were roaring at me by this point, every woodland creature from squirrel to bear fleeing from our general area.

            “I know you saw his eyes glowing! Normal human eyes don’t glow like that. It means he’s either a Determination user, which I highly doubt, or he’s the same sort of otherworldly _thing_ as Hedon’s puppet. If that’s the case, it means he’s hiding information that could bring us straight to his doorstep before he has a chance to attack us again.”

            Oddly enough, I found myself agreeing with them to a degree. The only known ways for a human to actively utilize Determination were by being the most Determined one, which was Frisk, using and surviving the DT Enabler, which I had kept unplugged and inactive behind a firmly sealed and concealed door, and being part of an amalgamation using the disembodied Souls of several humans as batteries, and I was pretty sure Alphys wasn’t in a hurry to make any more of those.

            “still leaves the question of why you didn’t tell anyone before confronting him. it took three of us to bring down one of them before, but you thought you were good enough to take him on your own?” They scrunched their nose, a choked mimicry of a laugh scraping out.

            “We both know you wouldn’t have trusted me for a second. Hell, you saw the proof for yourself and you’re still interrogating _me_ instead of _him_!” Fair enough.

            “he’s penciled in for two a.m. and frisk?” They turned around, staring off into the distance, oblivious of my addition to the question. “i said…”

            “You think I like seeing them relapse?” They shot me a look both more hateful and more caring than I had ever seen from them, but it was a momentary paradox, their eyes going back to the horizon. “All it took was one sentence from Hedon to knock them down. On a bad day, just hearing my voice is enough to set them off. Whatever he is…” Their head tilted down, but I don’t think they were even aware of what they were looking at anymore.

            “Whatever I am, we’re their Achilles heel. Maybe it’s because I messed up the wiring in their head, or maybe it’s because of something else unique to us that I don’t know about. There’s plenty of those to choose from. Whichever’s the case, dragging Frisk into fights between the freaks among freaks is out of the question.” It was like I was talking to a completely different person. There was a hint of surliness that I couldn’t mistake for anyone else, but beyond that, it was like I was talking to…

            “you know, i can’t help but notice how your whole personality flip flops when someone brings up the kid. i'd daresay it makes you sound downright sane, but that’s crazy, right?”

            “Shut it, smiles.” There was no heart at all behind the comeback, but it was more like what I usually expected. They rubbed their eyes, the fire I inadvertently (for once) started flickering out. “Asriel’s body is just about drained for the day. I don’t think it’ll hold up for more than a half hour or so.” I looked up, and the sky above us was still bright blue. Maybe it had something to do with the real owner being out for lunch?

            “alright, then, guess it’s up to me to escort you home, your majesty.” They shuffled past me, lazily thwapping me in the shoulder. There wasn’t a lick of intent behind it.

            “Just make sure you wring the truth out of that serpent before he whispers something destructive in someone’s ear. And if I’m right about him, you come to me. Not Frisk. I’ll pass the buck when they’re not still reeling from a time attack.” I took a second to take another look in their eyes, checking the color. It was still that evil shade of red, but that aside, part of me could’ve sworn itself blind that it was Asriel talking to me. I shrugged my shoulders and followed, contenting myself in counting the steps taken before they realized they could ask me for a teleport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look at that, something with cosmic significance is actually happening again. It's been a few months.


	17. Preperations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Go and build your castle as tall as you desire. Your neighbor's doing the same.

            You sank down to your neck in the steaming water, careful not to go too low for the sake of the mud mask covering most of your face. There was some difficulty for the esthetician in deciding exactly where the cucumber slices should be placed thanks to your unique eyes and flat facial features, but they managed eventually. Working for a celebrity robot tended to invoke some creativity.

            “So, darling, how’s the day off thus far? I can already see the mineral water is doing its magic on your skin.” You nodded, pleasantly surprised by how… fresh you felt, even if you were covered in mud. Special mud, but still.

            “Should’ve done this sooner.” Every movement released another pop from your muscles, some physical pressure that had been accumulating for as long as you could remember draining away.

            “Frankly, I’m disappointed in myself for not mentioning it the last time I was in town. I don't have any first hand experience, but I don’t think being possessed or thrown through buildings is good for you.” You had almost forgotten that his last visit was punctuated with that one Chara’s invasion of your body. “Speaking of which, oh Washua! Be a dear and tell Hans to start warming the message tables.” The water tank at the edge of the Jacuzzi nodded, cutting off the flow of hot water and running to an adjacent room. You heard the water near you flowing over something, Mettaton’s presence closing in, but not too close.

            “Have you made any progress with our… agreement?” His voice was soft, both to hide it from any possible peeping toms and to not intimidate you, but the latter goal was completely failed. A deep sense of shame rose to the back of your throat.

            “Haven’t had a chance. Asriel just recovered, and Sans is…”             “Being Sans?”

            “Actually, he hasn’t been napping as much lately.” You could feel his shocked expression, like airborne static. “Now it’s kind of tough to track him down between school and curfew without some big crisis coming into it. Sorry, I’ll try to find him soon to talk.”

            “Say no more.” There was a light, friendly patting on your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it today. For now, please forget I said anything and keep relaxing like royalty. Well, you are technically royalty, so relax like yourself.” Unfortunately, you didn’t know all that much about relaxation or forgetting things, but you would try your best, for Mettaton’s sake if not your own.

            _‘I suggest letting your mind empty for once. I can see you trying to double check your safeguards, you know.’_ You internally flinched, turning your mind’s eye away from your carefully laid plans. The pressure emanating from the mask pressed between your back and the edge of the tub eased up, satisfied with your obedience. He didn’t put his foot down often, but when he did, Gaster could be quite forceful. Your struggle to hide a shudder was upended by a soft tug at your soaking wet hair, which bad been splayed over the side to keep it from getting caught in the mask.

            “Pardon if it’s disturbing you, but I’ve been meaning to say just how fabulous your hair is! Such a rich shade of brown, and so shiny! You must tell me your secret.” You shrugged, now offhandedly monitoring the way he handled your back length locks.

            “Don’t really do much. Normal shampoo and conditioner, that’s it.” He hummed skeptically.

            “Perhaps it’s a lack of intricate hair care products that helps you retain a natural beauty.” You snickered to yourself, a thought crossing your mind.

            “Maybe it’s Determination. Seems to do everything anymore.” Metta, being unused to your casual regard for what was possibly the most dangerous power source in all of existence, took a while to chuckle, and even then it was the guarded sort that often lead to a swift change of subject.

            _‘If that’s the case, then I’m twice as upset my original experiment failed. What I would do for a full head of hair. It doesn’t even have to be particularly stunning.’_ The pulling on the back of your head was joined by little twists.

            “Free flowing hair of this length can be stunning at the right moments, but it’s also quite fragile. Let me show you a little trick to give it some more longevity. One more loop, and done!” What felt like a rope was set gently over your shoulder, hanging down and around to the point of your collar bone. Your eyelids twitched when your cucumber slices were pulled away, leaving you face to face with a mirror bordered by pink, gem studded metal.

            You stared back at yourself, your eyes drawn to your hair. The loose strands that used to cover your ears were pulled back, tied up with the rest in a dense braid. Far from a simple ponytail job, your hair was coiled in on itself into one length and draped around your front. You gently touched it, admiring how it gently framed that side of your chin.

            “Could we find some flowers to weave in it, too?” Mettaton’s face lit up, LED eyes mirroring his Soul’s excitement.

            “That's a splendid idea, darling! At this rate, I might just have to have one of my dresses refitted to complete your princess look. I can see it now; you walking into a fancy ballroom, ladies and lads swooning at your approach. No makeup, of course. We wouldn’t want to undercut your natural appeal. I’m thinking dark blues and purples, perhaps a wispy cerulean ribbon or two.” And he was gone, lost in his plans to make you into the most beautiful dress up doll in town.

            Though you couldn’t argue that being pretty for once wouldn’t be nice. At the very least, you were keeping the braid for a while. Something about it just seemed right to you. Besides, without it covering your ears, you could better hear an incoming attack…

            _‘Ahem.’_

            …Mom calling you for dinner.

            _‘That’s better.’_

 

-

 

            You were melting into the surprisingly soft table, threatening to turn into goo and slide through the cushioned head hole, only Gaster’s relocated mask acting as a barrier between you and the floor below. Muscular fingers worked at your back, each press adding to the liquidation process. Your head was hazy, but for once it was in a good way, your worldly woes obscured by the fog. Not even the whine of the high powered scrubber Mettaton’s masseuse employed could bother you.

            “You are far more densely built than simple pictures do justice, friend. What sort of training regiment could give someone such a well defined figure?” Your warm handed masseuse, Hans, was right to ask. Since your torso was usually hidden by your thick blue and purple sweater, most people were under the impression that your massive strength was all from DT enhancement. Little did they know, or you remembered most of the time, you had accumulated quite a bit of bulk over the last almost year. DT still played a part, but you suspected you could hold your own hand to hand without it.

            “Undyne doesn’t settle for less than best.”

            “Ah, of course. As the head of your personal Guard, I should have expected that she was also in charge of your personal fitness. It may be in your best interest to ask her to ease up a little, however. Your entire back feels like one large knot.” A moment of uncertainty crossed you. Of course, as a human, he wouldn’t be aware of how much fighting you had been involved in. That sort of intel was generally restricted to the monster populace only, and even then much of your combat history was withheld to your personal ring of friends. Fortunately, as someone within that particular ring, Mettaton was well aware that you needed to redirect the topic.

            “I’m sure the dear means well. Remember, to monsters, worn and knotted muscles are as simple as a meal and a good night’s sleep to fix. The line can get fairly blurry for Frisk, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”

            “Ah, yes, being able to train magic as well as might must make her forget that you sustain long term injuries more easily. If nothing else, I could get you in contact with my brother, Arthur. He has endured just as much training in the fine art of massaging as myself, and he lives in a far more reasonable proximity of Ebott than myself.” Even if you didn’t sustain any further battle based strains, the thought of more massages sounded absolutely blissful.

            “Does he have a business card, or…?” The breath in your lungs ran cold, some unseen force pulsing by in a single wave. Hans must have felt it, too, his hands stationary on your mid back. “Is something happening? I can’t see from down here.” No answer came. You tried to push yourself up, but you found your arms were too relaxed and noodle like to move his rock solid hold.

            Actually, they almost did feel like rocks. There wasn’t any sort of give that you would associate with human flesh, and he was icy cold. He wasn’t putting off any heat whatsoever. Perking your ears, you were also met with a peculiar silence. Mettaton’s scrubber wasn’t scrubbing anymore. It was like everything around you had frozen in time.

            You squinted hard at the wooden floor, looking for a telltale distortion. It was still noticeably brown, but it was dulled, like someone mixed its native coloration with a small amount of grey. That wasn’t right. The only person you knew who could stop time like this was Sans, but the color change was wrong. Things that were frozen were completely grayscale, things not were still in color. There was no in between.

            _‘Gaster, can you tell what’s happening here?’_

            “Sorry, but he’s time stopped too." You had never heard that voice before. It was light and bouncy, childlike in tone but more young adult in overall sound, the only indicator that it was male in origin being the slight deepness in the undertone. “My business is with you and you alone.” Your line of sight was breached by a pair of brown boots, riding up to just under the wearer’s knees. From that point on was a pair of exceptionally baggy pants, the two halves connected by a very visible seam. The left half was navy blue, and the right was forest green.

            “At least I think it is. You’re Frisk, right? It’s hard to tell without seeing your face. Let me just get down there, and…” He hopped down, reminding you in part of a cat until you saw his face. Or, rather, the mask between you and it. It was a humor theater mask, much like Gaster’s, but this one was shaped differently. It had sharper edges, a triangular plate that was bent directly down the center, creating a dividing line between the two halves. Atop his head was a jester’s hat, the cloth alternating between red and orange with each vertical stripe, the two dangling points capped by white cotton balls. There weren’t any discernible eyes to be seen, only a familiar nothingness.

            “…And your face is covered, what are the odds. Oh well, I couldn't mistake that squint if I tried. Oh!” He reached out, his hand covered by a white, silk glove, and gently touched your braid. “Oh that is just the most adorable thing! It really compliments your eyes.” You didn’t know what to make of this intruder. He all but admitted to being behind the time stop, but you sensed that this overly friendly exterior wasn’t falsified, at least not entirely. Even so, the inability to see any sort of body beneath his outer layer was disconcerting at best.

            “Who are you?” His mask eyes widened.

            “How rude of me, not even introducing myself. Hold on, this crouch thing is actually pretty hard on the wrists.” He rolled over, landing flat on the floor and looking straight up at you. He threw his arms behind his head and crossed one leg over the other, gently bobbing his foot.

            “So, I already know you pretty well, as I’m sure you guessed. I mean, I know you were supposed to be around here today and what you look like, so it’s not really a surprise. Or maybe it is, just not as surprising now as it would’ve been if I lead with it. Either way, the point is you don’t have to introduce yourself, so let’s save that precious bit of time.” You would’ve been happy to oblige if he hadn’t already used way more time than you would have to say your own name.

            “Okay, fair point. I’m known to ramble on a bit, so sorry about that.” Wait, did he just…? “Read your mind? Yeah, I totally did. Or I guess I should put it more like I know you so well that I can guess roughly what you’re thinking with virtually one hundred percent accuracy, but from your side looking in, it would look like mind reading. Am I going too fast? People also tell me I talk way too fast sometimes. Or all the time, but I don’t let it bother me enough to remember each time I’m told. It’s like when you’re eating steak and you try not to remember that it’s made out of a fuzzy, gassy cow, you know what I mean?” Not really, but you were more concerned with why he was there and how he stopped time than his personal philosophy.

            “Okay, I’ll just say it now, I can’t help you with that second point. Mr. Boss Man was really clear about what I can and can't tell you, and that falls in the latter, otherwise I’d tell you everything. I’m a really honest person, so believe me when I say that me telling you exactly what’s going on could crack the fabric of your world like an egg. This is for the best.” Hold on, boss?

            “Is your boss Hedon, or is that another thing you can’t tell me?” You wanted desperately to know everything about what was happening, but you felt it was best to stick with what was going to get you a comprehensible response. Your plan worked, too, assuming a disgusted groan counted as comprehensible.

            “I can't tell you who I work for, but I can assure you that I wouldn’t be caught deaf and blind helping that guy. I kept warning Boss that he was a bad egg, but did anyone listen to poor old me? Nope, and now look where we are. I love my job, hence why I’m still working it, but Boss can be way too passive sometimes.” He rolled his hand, clearly bored of this line of discussion.

            “Any who, for the other question, I’m here playing the courier. Boss has a message for you, but he can’t give it to you in person. So, you think you can remember it, or should I nab a notepad?" You shook your head, hoping his knowledge of you was enough to tell him to keep going.

            “Okay, so he says you should consider making one more Save in the near future. Our mutual enemy, and you should know who I’m talking about, is lurking around somewhere, but, by Boss’s estimates, he’ll still need about another week to pull anything major off. When that time comes, you might find it handy to not have to relive too much of your life before you get a second shot. So, think you can do that?”

            You stared at him suspiciously, your eyebrows pressed into a unibrow. Could you really trust him when so much pointed to him being similar to the person who had recently tried to execute many of those closest to you? You wanted to believe him, but with so much riding on your final decision, nothing less than one hundred percent was enough. He sighed, wilting like a flower in the desert.

            “Wow, the most friendly kid around doesn’t trust me. That’s, like, the worst kind of insult. Well let’s see if I can change your mind.” He spun himself around, turning his body so he was both face to face with you and oriented to look you in the eyes properly. He moved his arms to his front, crossing them as his posture became sharp, disciplined. He breathed deeply, and, with little warning, his eyes erupted in a cerulean light. They were too bright to note every detail accurately, but from where you were laying, it looked like the light emanated from rings that took the place of proper irises.

            “I, BY MY HONOR, SWEAR TO THEE MY HONEST INTENT, AND, SHOULD DISHONESTY CROSS MY LIPS, MAY VOID CLAIM MY BEING.” His voice rumbled like an avalanche, but not in your ears, not even in your mind, as you had become accustomed to. No, his words seemed to resonate from within your own Soul, a thin tether linking your spirit and his. The feeling of connection left as suddenly as it came, his body flopping out across the ground beneath you and his eyes returning to darkness. “So, is that enough?” He was panting heavily, exhausted by the effort, and you could tell it was no act. Spots of moisture seeped through his vibrant attire, and it was proof enough that he was more tangible than your most pressing threat.

            “Yeah, it’ll do." He showed a limp thumbs up, arm giving out and landing once more soon after.

            “Neat, because it kind of stinks to do stuff like that. Revealing enough of your true being to make a binding oath without disrupting the physical plain is a lot like when you feel you have to sneeze but just can’t get it to come out.” You expected him to elaborate his point further, but it looked like he was completely drained of energy, just laying there and breathing. You took a moment to think on his message, quickly singling out the best time to Save.

            “Would Sunday at midnight be alright? That’s when our concert’s over, and I want to have that much written in stone.” He nodded, neck flailing like an inflatable used car mascot.

            “Yeah, sounds good. Just make sure you clue Sans and Chara in, so they’re not too surprised if you end up having to Reload. I’d say I’d let the Boss know, too, but he already knows. So I’m just gonna head on back home and curl up for a bit. So if you don’t mind…”

            “Hold on, you never told me your name.” He paused for a moment, a resounding ‘whoops’ telling you that it wasn’t intentional.

            “As you might’ve picked up by now, someone like me saying a proper name from our plain of existence tends to break the minds of the average worldly types, hence why I haven’t said our common foe’s name. So, in the spirit of not cracking your friends’ skulls, you can call me the Lore Keeper. Or just Lorkee for short. Wait, that sounds surprisingly close to Loki. Is that why Boss gave me that nickname?” His earlier tiredness vanished, a loud set of cackling rejuvenating him completely. “Oh man, you are clever, sir, I hope you realize that!” He flicked the underside of his eye like he was wiping away a stray tear before sliding away from you and hopping back to his feet beyond your line of sight.

            “Welp, that concludes my business here for now. I should really skedaddle before things start loosening up around here. Toodles, Frisky, and enjoy the rest of your spa day!” A wave of disorientation washed over you, the firm, but gentle kneading at your back pinning you in place.

            “No, but I can write down his contact information if you would like.” Your head was spinning, trying to reorient yourself with your prior conversation, but you couldn’t recall what he was talking about…

            _‘Hans’s brother, Arthur.’_ Oh, that was it.

            “Yeah, that sounds great.” You stared straight down at the wooden floor, its purely brown coloration rooting you back in the world as you knew it. Gaster’s cool presence enveloped your Soul, forcefully holding your perception steady.

            _‘What in the world happened? It’s as though your body spontaneously endured about five minutes of events in the span of a nanosecond.’_ You let the warmth of the room soak into you, the entire previous conversation’s bitter cold environment fiercely taxing your internal body temperature.

            _‘You really didn’t see anything, did you?’_

_‘I would take my current state of confusion as a negative response to your question. What of my question?’_

_‘Still trying to figure it out. Go ahead and sift through my recent memories. You have my permission.’_ He hesitated at first, your only personal space left in your own body residing in memories before you gave him refuge, but his curiosity won out in the end. You felt his presence seeping deeper into your mind, retroactively absorbing the incident he had been unwillingly divorced from. Pressure on one neuron brought the image of the culprit into clear view, his sharp edged, smiling, triangular mask staring directly at you once again.

            Deep in your Soul, you wondered if accepting his offer was really such a great idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, more other worldly stuff! I am out of end note material!


	18. Inspection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One by one, drops of water become a crushing force. I hope you brought a towel.

            You’d think having dinner with your own killer would be a hundred kinds of tense, but it was actually pretty civil. Yeah, I knew it was mostly because they were trying to uphold their Asriel performance in front of Tori, but the novelty of sharing a bite with someone with the potential to slaughter me reminded me of simpler times. More boring times. More repetitive times. It both relieved me of my new load of burdens and reminded me of the crushing nothingness I once held as truth.

            “Sans, you are not thinking of something depressing at my table, I hope.” I snapped out of my reflection, looking up to see Tori smiling softly my way with one brow up. I scratched the back of my head, gaze dropping back to the loaded plate I had been picking at.

            “sorry ‘bout that. the burg and fries here’re just reminding me of my tab at grillby’s.” Her smile twisted into a strained grin. She was holding something back, and I had the sudden impulse to brace for impact.

            “It is poor practice to ignore your debts. You will have to cal-see-him later.” Her teeth were almost glowing as she resisted laughing at her own joke, but I was under no such obligation.

            “heh heh, you still know how to get my goat.” We were laughing our heads off, but I noticed Chara was off to the side, burying their face in their burg to keep from groaning at us. A wicked thought came to me, and after everything they’d put me through, I felt I deserved to let ‘em have it.

            “what’s wrong, az? aren't our jokes punny?” Their lips clamped together, locking away a reaction. Looked like I needed to pull out the big guns. “come on, has a skeleton goat your tongue?" I could see their nostrils flaring. Just one more hit’d do it, but which one should I…?

            “I think he is just fur-ious. Your jokes are the fluff of night-hairs.” Tori quickly went after a sip of tea, but no dinnerware could hide her self satisfied smirk from me. I would’ve applauded the brutal combo if Chara hadn’t loosed a low chuckle.

            “You guys are hopeless. Do you just spend all day thinking up puns?” I shrugged, answering their acting with a performance of my own. I picked up a fry, rolling it in my fingers.

            “my best jokes are from reading the room, so if you don’t like my material, don’t come frying to me.” Their eyebrows resembled one solid tabletop right above their eyes, but they maintained a smile as though it was good natured disappointment. Now that they were under oaths to not kill me, and I had reason to believe that they were binding, I could prod the bear without regrets.

            “Wow, already at that level. I’ll need to work hard to ketchup.” Huh, so that was what it was like being jumpscared out of nowhere. With a pun, to boot. My head nearly went all the way around, owl style, to find Frisk standing in the doorway. I thought I hid the surprise well, but their ‘hide the laugh with their sleeve’ maneuver told me otherwise.

            “Hello, my child, are you feeling better now?” Tori excused herself from the table, going over to hug her kid, practically enveloping them in her robes. Frisk’s voice was muffled by the thick fabric, but it was still clear enough to make out.

            “Yeah, much. Feel like a new person.” The room became uncomfortably quiet until they followed up with, “Figuratively speaking.” They really should’ve known better than to use that figure of speech considering how literally it’s applied to our group. Heck, there was someone who exemplified the concept just across the table, who was somewhere between sweating bullets and hunting for a knife before they cleared things up. A nervous cough from Tori summed up the mood pretty well before changing it with a gentle touch to Frisk’s new hairdo.

            “I must say, these blue orchid blossoms compliment you quite well. Were they Mettaton’s idea?” They thought about it for a moment before making a so-so hand gesture.

            “Flowers were mine, color was his. Like it?” She gently rubbed the top of their head, careful not to mess up the intricately weaved braid.

            “Yes, it looks lovely. I must admit, I have long been jealous of those with a full head of hair to style. There is not much one can do with only fur, not that I never tried in my younger years.” She looked over her shoulder at Chara. “Do take my word for it when I say never attempt to dye patterns into your coat. It is less impressive than you would think at first.” One glance their way signed a contract between me and them to toss that thought into the ‘never ask about it’ bin. There are some things better left in the past.

            “Now then, take a seat, my child, while I go prepare a plate for you. I have read that proper nutrition and hydration are important after a day at the spa, and you must be famished either way.” Frisk nodded, watching her as she made her way into the kitchen. As soon as she was gone, though, their expression turned steely and serious, the happy front they had been holding swapping out for their true state of emotional distress.

            “Sans, we three need to talk. Now.” They swiped two fingers over the top of their wrist as though crossing out a clock. I took their meaning clearly, reaching out to the mechanisms just beneath the surface of the world around us. Frisk hurried to the table, taking a seat just as my magic took effect, jamming the temporal gears of everything beyond our small bubble. The instantaneous cessation of motion and color hit the kid harder than usual, their skin going pale.

            “what’s up, pal? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” They put their head in their hands, letting the last of what must’ve been a long held act melt away.

            “Almost, and one thing that was worse.” They parted their fingers, looking both of us dead in the eyes. That would’ve been fine normally, but the fact that we could actually see their eyeballs pushed it far over the line. They were haggard and bloodshot, blue irises layered with a golden glow that faded in and out. Their DT was fluctuating, on edge at the micro level. Chara was by them in moments, one hand on their back and the other on the table. Frisk’s muscles spasmed at the contact.

            "Good grief, Frisk, how long have you been on guard like this!? You’re going to burn yourself out!” Their hand glowed, small trickles of seven colored Determination flowing between them. The sputtering eye ring solidified, but they refused to calm down enough to turn off the heightened state. Losing one of their points of focus, Frisk’s eyes darted from one side of the room to the other, looking for something out in the grey. “Damn it, stop! You can’t maintain this for much longer without blacking out. Do you know how close you were to complete shutdown?”

            “Doesn’t matter. Can’t let guard down. There’s another one now.” I set my left hand out on the table, their nervousness starting to rub off.

            “another what?” They rubbed their eyes, the infusion doing next to nothing for their physical exhaustion.

            “Another thing like Hedon.” My teeth pressed harder together, a trickle of DT instinctively flowing to my eye before I was able to restrain the stream. Chara took it even worse, looking at them with all the horror they could bring to bear. Their fur started to stand on end, and they almost followed Frisk into a preemptive combat state. It took a nudge of blue magic to bring them back down to Earth. They repressed their fear as well as they were able.

            “Okay, tell us, slowly, what exactly happened.” Frisk took a deep breath, forcing themself to look at us.

            “He came to me during a massage…”

 

-

 

            By the time they finished, Frisk’s eyes were half lidded, but they still couldn’t make their DT settle, the intensity of their glow sharply jumping every time they shook off the call of sleep. Chara was by them the whole time, linking them to their own DT system to stave off a collapse.

            “At least this Lore Keeper didn’t attack you. He could’ve put you down easily in the state you were in if that’s what he wanted.” Frisk’s eyes dropped to the table, their followup catching in their throat before they managed to push it out.

            “Neither did Hedon.” I sat up straight in my chair, and alarm going off in my head.

            “are you saying what i think you’re saying?” They nodded, arms crossed in front of them.

            “It took some time to remember, but I met him once before. Remember back when the other Charas attacked me in Waterfall?” I nodded, the image stuck firmly in the back of my mind.

            “you were piloting a fake me.”

            “Then you went and made a copy of Omega Flowey to finish them off. What about it?” Their hands were each wrapped around the opposite elbow, gripping hard enough to cut off blood flow.

            “Didn’t you wonder where I learned to do that?” Now that I was thinking about it, no, I was too busy trying to get everyone out of there alive. Wait, were they implying…? “It was him that taught me to control fake bodies. Puppets, he called them.” Boy, that sounded familiar. However, the use of similar terminology, no matter how disconcerting, does not count as irrefutable proof, and Frisk knew it.

            “any other links that point to them being the same person?” Their hands were shaking at this point, legs coming up and planting on the chair to form a Frisk ball.

            “The voice. That horrible, horrible voice. Deep, loud, commanding, _evil_. And his presence, just being in the room with him is like choking on oil.” They were completely broken at this point, eyes bulged open and teeth chattering. Chara put all of their strength into holding them still, but they were no more effective than a thick coat.

            “Back then, he said to call him Rameg, and now we know his real name was different. Lore Keeper outright told me that his was a nickname, and he lended a hand just like Hedon!” I reached out with what magic I could spare without bursting the time bubble, adding my spacial control to the amassing dog pile, but, again, they were too far gone to hold that easily.

            “What do I do? I couldn’t hold up against even one of them, and now there’s two!” Their breathing became erratic, and tears were streaming down their cheeks. Chara avoided them to the best of their abilities for fear of contact with a conductor. “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t lose everything again! I can’t, I can’t…!” A pulse ran through their body, rippling against the field of blue magic, and they shot up straight. For a moment, I thought they were overloading or something, but then I heard Gaster’s voice echoing in my head.

            _‘Put the mask on them, now!’_ Chara was quick to follow through, grabbing it by the string and roughly dragging it up and around until it met their face. It sealed itself on tight, and Frisk’s body lost all tension, flopping to the table with all the resistance of a wet noodle. Chara looked like they were about to try dragging them back up until they started to twitch, a deep, pained groan echoing from the mask.

            “Honestly, how is it possible for that child to operate under such duress? Any further physical strain would have put them in a coma at their prior rate of energy usage, and I don’t believe undergoing more than one in a year’s time is promising for their long term health.” A few more spasms rocked the kid’s body, most likely Gaster trying to figure out how to best meld with it. All he could manage, though, was tilting his head up just enough to look at us, Frisk’s face obscured by an impenetrable veil of darkness just beneath the mask. Meanwhile, Chara was sweating profusely, damp spots overtaking their snow white fur.

            “What just happened? I’ve never, in any timeline, seen them do anything like that…”

            “I believe that is what you would call a nervous breakdown. With all that they’ve been burdening themself with as of late, I suppose it would have been more shocking if they hadn’t overloaded sooner or later.” He lowered himself back to the table, poorly muffling a series of clicks, squeaks, and whistles. For the sake of kiddos in the crowd, I won’t translate. When he was done letting off the steam, he turned to me. “I hate to impose, my boy, but would you mind helping your old man arrange an emergency visitation to the psychologist? I feel Doctor Baker's expertise in this field far outweighs my own.” If I wasn’t in earshot of the one guy with the right to wash my mouth out with soap, it would’ve been my turn to curse in a normally unintelligible language.

            “actually, there's been a bit of a situation on that front. we were gonna tell you two about it before i took off to ask him some questions. can the kid hear us right now?” Gaster shook his head, his lack of verbal response saying everything his stiff face couldn’t. “good, cause i don’t think they need to hear that there’s a good chance their doc might be in on it, too.”

 

-

 

            Getting out of that house was tricky, tricky business. The last thing Tori expected to see was me carting the kid off to Pauly’s on account of mental exhaustion after a day spent preventing just that. I think she figured out that it took more time than she, by her perception, was out of the room for that sort of thing to go down, mostly because she not so subtly implied what she thought of people keeping secrets from her under her own roof. If she knew who she was actually hugging for comfort as we left, she might’ve had a conniption.

            Pauly’s front door was unlocked, and the main room was awash in light streaming from his office. I poked my head in, and he was just chilling in his big chair with a book. Specifically, it was a manga. Death Note. Weirdly fitting, but, all things considered, it was probably intentional. It didn’t take long for him to notice me, giving a kindly, one pass wave as he set the book aside.

            “Hey there, Sans, right on time. And here I had you pinned as the fashionably late sort.” So, back to the civility charade? Fine, I could play ball.

            “yeah, that sounds like me, but something new came up.” The rest of me crossed the threshold into his domain, exposing Frisk’s limp, unconscious body draped over my shoulder. I, in as clear of terms as I could use without speaking, set them down on the therapy couch. He leaned forward, about to stand up, but I cut him off with a raised left hand.

            “here’s what’s gonna go down. i’m gonna ask you some questions. if i like what i hear, i'll let you do your thing. if i don’t, i'll bring this whole joint down on your head and find frisk some real help. got it?” I couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind his blank stare. He reclined back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other with an amicable smile on his face.

            “Alright, then. I admit, I didn’t expect you to get so openly hostile. Just to get this straight, you thought I was serious with the eye glowing thing just before you left?” The fact that he wasn’t the least disturbed by my threat was a mixed signal. It either meant he was confident he didn’t have anything incriminating hiding in his closet or that being buried in rubble wasn’t a problem worth getting worked up over.

            “yeah. you saying you weren’t?” If this was one of Alph’s shows, this would’ve been where the embarrassed sweat drop popped up on his forehead, right as he was scratching the back of his head.

            “I honestly thought we were just putting on a show to appease Chara’s bloodlust. They’ve made great improvements lately, but when they decide someone’s a target, it’s hard to dissuade them. I was under the impression we were making it seem like you would be throwing down with me in their stead, but it looks like I was off the mark. Entirely my mistake, and I apologize for it.” Okay, this one was firmly in the promising camp. If Chara was any indicator, a failed mind ploy from these types usually resulted in foaming at the mouth and berserking, not an apology. Actually, it was probably a good idea to make sure there was a relation there first.

            “first question, are you or are you not the same… species as hedon and chara?”

            “Yes and no.” I hate when people say that. It usually means things are about to get complicated fast. “If you had phrased the question as, “Do you come from the same place as Hedon and Chara,” I would’ve answered yes. Beyond that, the similarities are there but limited.” Alright, that was more concrete, and he admitted to being not of our world.

            “second, when chara was interrogating you, they said something about the building humming. any reason why?”

            “That would be because my office is a part of me.” Suddenly, I had the expectation that the walls would go pink and fleshy on us.

            “so are we in your stomach right now?” He openly laughed at the suggestion, but it looked like it was because of the ridiculousness instead of me being onto something.

            “That would be the first interpretation, wouldn’t it? I meant more on the spiritual side than the literal. You know how Frisk can bend the fragments of the timeline to make copies of people? It’s kind of like that, but instead of using preexisting fragments, I used parts of my own being to make a hub in your world. It’s quite cozy, at least when other outworlders aren’t rampaging through the halls. A big enough power source stomping around gives me a headache.”

            That brought to mind one of Chara’s other complaints, how the doc seemed to randomly have exactly what he needed on hand to fight Hedon off. He must've felt the intrusion ahead of time and armed himself for a fight. That might’ve even been why he was napping before Asriel showed up that day, so he was all rested if push came to shove.

            “third, are you at all familiar with a guy that calls himself lore keeper?” His eyes opened wide, a sudden chuckle slipping through.

            “Oh, the boss finally put him on the field? Here I thought I’d be a sole operative a bit longer.” His normally cool persona slipped back in place, the momentary spark of glee fading into a warm backlight in his expression. “What’s he up to these days? Not being too much of a bother, I’d hope.” I pointedly looked towards Frisk, still completely unconscious.

            “just causing severe mental breakdowns in the people i care about. you know, nothing major.” For the first time since I had known him, he looked utterly shocked, but it, too, faded into a more composed look, albeit much more somber.

            “Oh, I think I get it. He was probably put in charge of getting a message to Frisk, but being exposed to another outworlder when they were already on guard overwhelmed them.” From what I could gather, that was about the long and short of it.

            “so, if it’s guys like him that set the kid off, why should i let you get close enough to potentially put them through another round?” He put his hands together, one balled up fist caught in the other.

            “That's a fair question, but you’ll need a little background info before you can understand my answer.” I nodded, giving him permission to carry on. “I don’t have to tell you that the people where I come from are far from normal. In order to create new things, including individuals, we mold small portions of our selves, like how I made my office here. That’s how Hedon makes his puppets, by taking small parts of his mind and inserting them in receptacles that can come to this world without breaking it by the force of their presence.”

            “That’s also how Lore Keeper and I ended up here, though the method is a bit different. Where Hedon breaks himself into copies that exert his will, my creator imprints his being on vessels, but avoids making them perfect copies. He lets sapience fill the vessels at its own pace, using his imprint as a general guideline. Hedon makes puppets. The Weaver creates _life_.”

            “so you’re telling me it's like a devil and god situation going on?” He cringed as soon as he heard ‘god,’ a sensitive trigger getting firmly pressed.

            “He'd rather not be seen like that if he can help it. He wants his creations to take on existences of their own, and positioning himself as an almighty being would run the risk of making them all completely subservient to him. We only work for him because he offered us an official job with proper payment. That’s why, unless we’re talking about our creation, we call him boss instead of creator. Your judgment of his counterpart, however, is spot on.” It was certainly an interesting story, and it raised a number of other suspicions to look into, but time was short.

            “so, how does this fit into you not being a threat to frisk?”

            “When Weaver made Lore Keeper, the vessel he used was as large as he could afford. When he compressed the completed product down into a humanoid form, the result was a being of just a small enough frequency to not break the fabric of your world, but being exposed to him directly can still affect individuals. That’s why he wears the heavy clothing, among other things, but someone as in tune with the abnormal as Frisk can see right through it.”

            “I, on the other hand, came from a more modest vessel. I have few outstanding abilities aside from the glowing eyes and sixth sense for beings from our realm, but I can blend into the crowd without so much as a mask.” It was true that he had a different air about him. Sharing a room with Hedon was like swimming through oil, but all I felt near Pauly was a slight chill, and that might’ve just been the night breeze. The chances of him causing a relapse were slim.

            “alright, just one more for you.” I looked back, making sure Frisk was still out cold before asking. “is chara a puppet of hedon?” He leaned back in his seat, tapping his fingers together.

            “I’ll admit, I don’t know enough to give you a solid yes or no. I do, however, have a few pieces of conjecture, if that’d be enough.” I nodded, glad to take anything that helped me reach a conclusion. Whether he was telling the truth or lying could be discussed later.

            “If there’s one thing I can state with certainty, it’s that there’s definitely a link.” He pointed to a filing cabinet in the far corner of the room. “I’ve performed extensive research on them, and you can double check every word of it if you want, but I’ve found no evidence of anyone with their distinct features disappearing anywhere near Mount Ebott within the last century. No matter which records I check, as far as humanity is concerned, Chara never existed, but monster records are quite adamant that the opposite is true. That would suggest that they slipped in from an alternate world. And two key pieces of evidence say they’re from ours.” He pointed to one of his eyes, lighting it up again. The blue color was similar to mine, but it was more ghostly in nature, more a cloud of sparkles than a constant flame.

            “Whenever they become emotionally distressed, their eyes glow a unique shade of red. This means that, even without the aid of your father’s Enabler, they have a natural link to Determination, just like myself and my coworker. It is, however, a limited link, suggesting that they are a lower tier creation and not a primary master, a possibility that I’ve thoroughly examined and have taken off the table. Then there’s the matter of their name.” He reached over to his desk, grabbing his notepad and flipping through it.

            “By the records of Cliff, Terry, and John, they were unable to hear them declare their own name. To us, names are a powerful thing. They are the proof of our existence, as substantial as our flesh. Spoken by one of your world, they bear little power, but from one of us, it taps into our origin to grant them their full meaning.”

            “hold up, i trust those three, and you’re lookin’ like a dependable source, spoiler alert, but i haven’t had any problem listenin’ to any of you.” He smiled, but I couldn’t figure out why.

            “That’s probably because of _your_ link to Determination. Your mind and body were conditioned to accept and generate it by the Enabler, granting you enough subconscious insight to register what we're saying without pain. For everyone else, though, it’s like being enabled on a micro scale without the long lasting benefits. In short, you don’t feel anything because you, and anyone who has survived that device, built up a tolerance that others don’t have.”

            I didn’t let it show, but I was getting pretty interested in what he had to say. To me, it sounded like I finally had a reliable reference point for, well, everything. Who I needed to be wary of, signs to watch out for, the nature of Determination, just about every major thing that, at one point or another, worked to grind me into dust. I knew that there was a chance he was using some supernatural charm to lure me onto his side, but there was an air of refreshing openness that reminded me of when Frisk let me into their head that first night after leaving the Underground. I guess I had a bias for anything that reminded me of Frisk, the first person I really opened up to.

            Huh, he really was a good psychologist.

            I could’ve kept asking him stuff for hours, but Frisk was starting to stir. My left hand went back in its sheathe.

            “alright, i’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, for now. need a bit more time to come to a conclusion, but the kid doesn’t have all that much.”

            “Good thing my job here is to give him mine, right?” He pulled a pen out of his pocket, all set for a long, hopefully fruitful session. “And hey, thanks for not destroying my office. That would’ve been a real hassle to clean up.” I shrugged.

            “the kid wouldn’t like me offing their shrink anyway. would've made ‘em short with me.” I slipped out of the room and into a shortcut, popping back into existence just behind the nearby bookshelf. I think he knew I was back there, shifting his chair a few inches over and giving me a better view of the stiffly waking up Frisk.

            “Huh, where…?”

            “Hey there, Frisk, I hear you’ve had a rough day. Want to talk about it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the missed week there. Flu season knows no mercy, or whatever it is that just hit the Midwest like a sledgehammer. Pardon a little irregularity for the next few weeks as I feel like a Ziploc bag full of mucus.
> 
> Also, would anyone happen to know any notable PSP games worth trying out? There are one or two games in the library I have my eye on, but I'd like a little more than that before throwing my money at Ebay.


	19. Chains of a Lost Age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most nefarious binds are those you forget you wear.

            Everything felt fuzzy. It was the best word you had to describe the buzzing in your limbs and the constant hum in the back of your head. You tried to clear it away, but the more you pushed, the more firmly the sensation rooted itself. You groaned softly, resigning yourself to the waiting game.

            In the meantime, you had morning checks to do. You reached out to your Determination, focusing on the pressure of Gaster’s mask to better focus your daily sweep of the town. You felt at ease despite your questionable physical state, knowing that slipping into the flow of DT would give you a temporary reprieve from the aches of the world.

            Instead of comfort, however, all you found was a blockade that swiftly repelled your advance towards your energy deposits. The force that pushed you away was horribly cold.

            _‘I hate to do this to you, my friend, but I fear for your safety should I allow you to access your magic.’_

_‘Gaster?’_ You tried a few more times, confirming with each that it was, indeed, his DT blocking your progress and that he wasn’t budging. _‘What are you doing?’_

_‘Keeping you from killing yourself.’_ His answer was like Arctic frost blanketing your Soul, your need for warmth halting any followup questions in their paths. _‘Do you not recall what happened before you blacked out?’_

            You thought as hard as you were able, redirecting your energy towards tearing through the fog in your mind. On the other side, a flood of emotions washed over you, but they felt dampened, restricted by their origin into a more easy to inspect intensity. Frustration, anger, confusion, but above all others, fear was the most well defined, the tips of its claws poking at every vertebra as it paced across your back. Whatever you had experienced had shaken you deeply, but remembering what was proving more difficult than usual…

            Suddenly, a laugh rang in your ears, deep and menacing. You were certain it wasn’t real, an echo of a memory, but hearing it prompted a reaction just as true as if it had been the genuine article. Your muscles seized up, your limbs locked at your sides as the faint image of a pointed jester’s mask formed at the edge of your mind. A small amount of the barrier in your head broke away, a soothing chill forcing your body to relax.

            _‘Yes, that would be it. Now, I’m going to need you to wake up. Someone is here that might be able to help you, but you need to be conscious first.’_ Your eyelids were heavy, a thick, hardened layer of crust sealing them together. You managed to break through with some effort, the binds cracking apart and releasing a trace amount of moisture on the surrounding skin. You tried reaching up to clear it away, the yellow crystalline film blocking your view of the room, but your arms were still pinned from the inside despite Gaster’s aid.

            You fell back on what little spiritual sense you had with your DT restrained, the aura of the air around you somehow familiar, but altered just enough to make a definitive identification impossible.

            “Huh, where…?” Your throat was dry, rough like sandpaper. Before you could even try coughing, though, noise pierced the darkness, the scratching of wood across a hard floor. Something pressed against your bottom lip, the slight give and circular imprint telling you it was a straw. You extended your lips, fighting against their rigid surface, and took a long sip. The fluid was pleasantly chilled, but it also stung slightly by way of heavy carbonation. It took a moment to recognize the flavor, the well aged vanilla that went into good root beer.

            “Hey there, Frisk.” You knew that voice. It was on the deeper end, but more in a mature way than bestial. Your senses started to sharpen, and you realized you recognized the texture of where you were laying. A soft cloth pressed against your eyes, wiping softly before pulling away. The crust had been cleared effectively, letting you see the sterile white ceiling and, in the corner of your eye, the kindly face of Doctor Pauly.

            “I hear you’ve had a rough day.” That was putting it lightly. Your vocal chords were still soaking in the refreshing moisture, so you could only nod in response. “Want to talk about it?” You had the distinct feeling that you had little choice in the matter. You twitched your legs, checking if they had any strength left before pushing yourself along the length of the couch. You pushed your head up against the arm, lifting it enough to more clearly see your doctor. Again, you nodded, coughing to clear out the last of the metaphorical dust in you throat. He clasped his hands together, his notepad left between his leg and the arm of his chair.

            “How about we start with how you ended up blacking out? I’ve heard the story from Sans, but I’d like your perspective.” So that was how you got to his office. You could feel Gaster’s pride at the lengths his so-called lazy son went for a friend.

            Slowly, as though afraid the words themselves would come to life and attack, you told Pauly about your encounter with Lore Keeper. About how time froze at just the right moment to leave you trapped, as helpless as those who were locked in greyscale and blessed with the lack of knowledge that anything notable had happened. You explained how you hastily slapped together a mask of calm, only for it to shatter when you were exposed to Sans’s supposedly signature time bubble technique. The time between that and you passing out was still too hazy to recall accurately, but you were sure the outside perspective he already had was sufficient.

            By the end of your story, Pauly’s kindly smile had degraded into a thoughtful, emotionless frown. You saw that he hadn’t so much as touched his notes, let alone add to them. You would've asked him about that, but, one, your throat was still pretty sore, and two, there was a strange gleam in his eye. It was kind of like an in progress puzzle or a loading bar, building up to completion. You let your eyes wander as he thought, the clock on his desk showing that it was three. Based on the lack of light outside of the room, you guessed it wasn’t P.M.

            “Sorry to bother you so early. Shouldn’t have to put down everything because of another relapse.”

            “It’s no bother at all, really. In fact…” His eyes lit up, the picture coming into stark clarity in his head as a confident grin carved itself into his face. “…This might be exactly what I needed.” For the first time since you woke up, he touched the notepad at his side, but only long enough to slip it into his pocket. “You say it was a relapse that knocked you out?” You nodded, but then a thought occurred.

            “Actually, I think it was Gaster, but he had to because of the relapse. Could’ve hurt someone…”

            “No, that’s no right.” He abruptly stood up, arms crossed behind his back. He continued talking as he paced back and forth on the other side of his desk. “A relapse occurs when your selves from erased timelines attempt to remerge with your current iteration, using an experience in this timeline as a focal point. This incident was rooted firmly in events specific to our timeline. This, my friend, was a nervous breakdown, and it’s exactly what we needed.” He turned, making his way to the blue flower pot in the corner. It was an odd match for the red flower therein, but you weren’t one to question unconventional home decoration…

            Wait, that hadn’t been there the last time you were in, had it?

            “Some people are like a well made vase. Outwardly, they seem perfectly fine, even beautiful, but all that fancy paint, in my field, serves only to hide the truth of their real condition from prying eyes.” His fingers rubbed across the surface, gently tracing each curving line. “I can look as closely as I want, as long as I want, but with all that paint in the way, what I find may be superfluous at best.” His hand went further up the pot, stirring the dirt it contained.

            “Your relapses, being of a supernatural nature, didn’t provide much usable information. It showed me what triggered you, but little insight beyond it. Was it based in misidentified external factors, simply revolting from the memory of outside forces that commanded you against your will, or did it come from within? I had no way of telling.” His hand wrapped firmly around the neck of the pot, lifting it from its stand and holding it at his side.

            “Now, though, you’ve experienced something more… physical.” His grip loosened, the pot barely holding on. “If you know anything about tarot, you know that it’s only at the brink of ruin that the greatest progress can be made.” His grip withdrew, gravity enacting its will without hesitation. At the instant of impact, it seemed like time slowed, letting you see each crack form moments before they tore the pot apart. When time resumed its normal flow, all that was left was a pile of dirt and a whiplashed flower sitting atop fragments of a once beautiful vase. Even with his property broken at his feet, Pauly continued his lecture in the same calm tone, kneeling down to sift through the debris.

            “It’s here, standing at the foot of the crumbled tower, that I can see its true nature hidden beneath the paint.” He plucked one of the larger shards of pot from the rest, holding it up so you could see the broken seam. The layers of blue paint surrounded a chalky white clay that, free of its binds, fell away with little prodding. “So, as fun as it is discussing the symbolism of tarot, I still have a job to do, and what psychologists do is quite simple once the pieces are all in order. We find the root of our patients’ problems, help uproot it, and oversee their progress in putting the soil of their life back in working order.” Still clutching the shard, he came back to his chair, sitting down with his attention firmly on you.

            “Tell me, Frisk, what do you suppose that root could be?” You thought for a moment, coming to the one conclusion that made sense to you.

            “Getting my powers. Going through the same thing over and over again, being strung along by malicious individuals, having the safety of the world on my shoulders, it gets to be a lot. I don’t see how we can fix any of…”

            “No!” You jumped, his drastic increase of volume taking you by surprise. “Don’t you see, you’re still looking at the paint!” He scratched at the painted side of the shard, scraping away enough to reveal a much lighter base layer. “Sure, much of what you’ve suffered piled up from the power to Save, from Chara’s manipulations to Hedon’s interest in you, but that’s not the core of the problem.” He took a deep breath, lowering his volume, but the atmosphere was still crushing. It was like a hundred spotlights were pointed at you, _through_ you. He reached to his desk, taking the black covered book from its corner.

            “I’m sure you’re at least aware of it by now, thanks to Miss Alphys, but I’d like to tell you my own musings about a little known story called Death Note.” He flipped it open, the silver cross on the cover acting to divide the two words of the title. “It’s about a young man named Light Yagami who, by complete luck, happened upon the power to kill whomever he pleased with nothing more than a face and a name. Using it, he, quite literally, rewrote the rules of society in the pursuit of what he thought was just.” He smirked ruefully, laughing lightly to himself.

            “Now, were I most people, this would be where I go on and on about what the story has to say about the concept of justice. We’ve heard a million times about how the topic is subjective and how Light was both right and wrong at the same time, but it’s so often forgotten that Light existed before he gained power. There was a reason why he took it upon himself to start killing criminals. There was a reason he took on the title and responsibilities of a god, even if he lost sight of it over time.” He closed it once more, now looking at you.

            “Few smart people do something of such a large scale without a reason, and, Frisk, I know you’re a very smart person. Your actions within the Underground make perfect sense to me at a base logical level. Your refusal to kill stemming from innocence, your use of Saves to keep dust off your hands, that’s all basic stuff.”

            “But once you left, you decided to go a step beyond what natural instincts would tell you to do. You took the title of ambassador and carried it out, using Saves and accumulated combat experience to subvert plots against you. If memory serves, one such incident was rather… explosive, if you’ll pardon the word play.” The mere mention of detonation made you remember the day in question perfectly.

            “Someone tried to kill Mom and me. We had to replace almost everything, and we were hospitalized for the burns.” You could still feel the cinders biting at you, the smoke filling your lungs. You didn’t think you would ever forget the feeling of burning ashes.

            “But it was more significant than the injuries and property damage, wasn’t it? You told me clearly that, though it wasn’t the first occurrence of a relapse, it was the first that forced you to act in anger. Why, if your main persona hadn’t reestablished itself when it did, that man would’ve payed quite heavily.” That part always weighed on you when you thought about it, the fact that you, without any outside prodding, almost took someone’s life, was a deeply sickening idea. “I wonder why that is. What could be so enraging to you that your subconscious mind would replicate Chara’s influence of its own accord?”

            “Then again, I suppose experiencing the same trauma twice would create an extreme reaction.” What did he mean by that? Yeah, your possessed mind did almost kill Mom at an earlier point, but that was in an erased timeline, something that was still a blurred echo at the time. He had been dutifully noting everything you told him up to this point, so why would he make a slip in logic now? Unless…

            Your heart skipped, another memory pushing its way through the fog. The smell of smoke, the sound of timber shattering under its own weight. You could feel Gaster’s influence trying to coax it out further, albeit tentatively, but you used your limited mental strength to push it back into the dark corners of your mind. You had only told Pauly of events after you were relocated to the orphanage, enough to explain why you had climbed Ebott in the first place. There was no way he could’ve known…

            “It also didn’t help that the topic was brokered both mentally and physically. Who could’ve guessed that the hospital you and Toriel recovered in would be the same one that treated you years prior?” He opened the drawer on his desk, pulling out a plain, manilla file. You tried to deny what you were seeing at first, but when you saw its label, all doubt flew out the window. ‘Frisk Hues.’ Your heart leaped, and you followed it, your sights set firmly on the file.

            “Hey, how did you…!?” As soon as you lifted from the couch, you were pushed back down, a pressure building on every joint in your body. Your Soul quivered, the weight of blue magic memorized in sharp detail. Pauly continued, seemingly oblivious to the magic that ensnared you.

            “You had already made the connection yourself, but Toriel bringing it up only solidified the connection. Your new family being endangered was inexorably linked to the old, and all the doubt and misery that made the idea of disappearing in the mountains so enticing was renewed, though this time in a more deceptive form.” He set the file aside and stood up, slowly walking towards you. You tried to scoot away, every instinct you had telling you that you were the mouse in this situation, but your blue bonds held fast.

            “You use your unique powers as an excuse. If you can’t help those in need, who will? If you don’t act, everything falls apart. If anything bad happens, it’s your fault. Not the perpetrator’s, not those who were trained to handle ill situations, _yours_. Is that not how you think?” By the time he finished the short trek to you, your awareness had divided. In one eye, you saw him staring down at you, a sorrowful pity that judged you mercilessly.

            In the other, all your sins were laid bare. The screams of the fallen ringed in your ears. A joyous cackle paved the way to darkness. Thick, ashen dust coated your hands until no skin remained. You smelled the ignited gasoline as the inferno ate away at your home. The pie that had started it all burned away, leaving only the taste of char behind.

            _‘It’s too late for them. I’m sorry.'_ You pushed through the pressure that held you still, clapping your hands over your ears. You screwed your eyes shut tightly, trying to stave off the visions, but they only played out even more clearly on the backs of your eyelids. One moment was burned into your psyche, the second before the ceiling dropped. Their faces were malformed from exposure to the flames, and anything further back was too far away to recall what they should’ve looked like. If you had just awakened to your powers sooner, if you had already been strong enough to break through the rubble, then maybe they… They…

            A pair of arms wrapped around you, burying your face in their owner’s chest. Pulling away was a wasteful effort, their grip stronger than even Greater Dog’s armor. The combined pressure of magic and the sudden grab shifted your hands, exposing your ears to the truth.

            “It was never your fault.” Your eyes shot open, moisture building up at the edges of the sockets. “They loved you with all their hearts. How do you think they feel, knowing that they’re being used to justify you tearing yourself apart?” You shook like a leaf in his unyielding hold. You wanted to cry until there was no more water to drain. You wanted to drop to the ground and strike it over and over until you passed out from exertion. You wanted to call down a rain of lightning and lash out until your mind was blessedly emptied.

            But you were too tired. Sick and tired. You curled into his hug, going still as you took in his supportive presence.

            “Why did they have to die?”

            “Sometimes, there isn’t a reason. Death is just a thing that happens.” His answer was wholly unsatisfying, but you knew it was the best he had. It was the best anyone could have. You stayed where you were until your eyelids grew heavy once more. There, devoid of your magic, restrained by someone of superior strength, you felt so tiny and helpless, like a child.

            It was… relieving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, character exploration! So, be honest, how many of you forgot the Hues house fire was even a thing? Don't worry, it's been about two years since it's been brought up. I really can't blame you.


	20. Unison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When false binds fall away, you may feel unsteady, but it's a price worthy of breathing freely.

            Your arrival home was uncomfortable, to be certain. She tried to feign control, but you knew Mom had been pacing since you left from the awkward alignment of her feet, denoting her sore ankles. Chara had been, true to form, taking Asriel’s role, acting as an anchor that kept her from completely spiraling out of control. Having at least one kid with her kept her from linking the present to the past, as you so foolishly had. Pauly, who had kindly escorted you back, took the burden of breaking the ice off your shoulders. You had enough to say on your plate, after all.

            “Good morning, Ma’am. Terribly sorry to have taken so long.” He extended a hand, which she politely took.

            “If anything, I should be the one apologizing. A mother should know how to console her own child.” A pang of guilt echoed through your otherwise hollowed Soul. You didn’t even bother to hide it, too tired to make any attempt to reach for your metaphorical mask. It seemed Chara was the only one to notice, though, eyeing you worriedly. It was likely Pauly knew without looking, but he was busy with Mom.

            “Actually, it’s not all that uncommon for someone to hide their pain from close family members. They wouldn’t want to cause trouble for the people they love, would they?” The steady pulses of regret threatened to start pooling, but you managed to vacate your heart once more. You needed a clear head to say what needed to be said. “We should sit down. I hate to keep you up so late, but if we don’t act now, we might waste today’s breakthrough.” Mom’s eyes lit up, knowing that was psychologist terminology for progress.

            Everyone corralled around the dining room table, you and Pauly on the opposite side from Mom and Chara. Just like before, you felt their eyes on you like spotlights, searching for anything you had left unguarded. It took some help from Gaster, but you were able to leave your walls down. For the first time since the accident, you had nothing to hide.

            Pauly started with an explanation of what had been going on in your head. He told them everything that you had hidden within, consciously or not, how your ‘paint’ had been so meticulous that even you didn’t know where the cover ended and you began. He skirted around what you had linked them too, specifically, but you knew it was because you had to say it. Mom’s eyes were moistened by the time he finished, and Chara’s expression was empty, their thoughts kept to themself.

            “Mom.” Her attention turned to you, a hand covering her mouth to prevent a gasp at how defeated you sounded. “Over and over, you’ve told me to trust you, that you would be there for me as much as I was for you. But whenever something came up, it was me throwing myself at it and winding up in the hospital. Every time, you told me that I was being reckless and that I was doing too much.” The last word come out as a hiccup. You took a moment to calm yourself before continuing. “You were right. You were always right.”

            “But, for some reason, that only made me fight harder. It made me push myself farther and farther each time.” You stared down at your hands, imagining the weight of cold, electrified metal in your palms. “Once, I refused to fight, and I held firm in that stance even when I died. But, sometime between then and now, I turned into a frontrunner, the first one to draw a sword when danger came.” Your head started to dip, unable to maintain eye contact with Mom any longer, but you refused to let your weakness take you. This had to be done properly.

            “Until now, I just thought it was how things had to be. I’m the bridge between monsters and humans, the one who, according to the world, freed them from millennia of captivity. How could I, of all people, back down with a reputation like that? How could I, who can brush off death itself, not be the sacrificial lamb of choice?” Mom always recoiled when you brought up your history with the grave, but on top of everything else, it served to make her misery harder to contain.

            “But now, I see what I was really doing. I’m no great warrior, no… messiah. I love all of you, with all my heart, but that’s not why I tried so hard to be perfect." Your hands gripped your pants with all their strength, the skin of your thighs straining under the pressure. The struggle to void your Soul was growing more daunting by the word.

            “I wasn’t fighting because I loved you, I fought because I didn’t want to lose another family. The voice that told me to jump down Mt. Ebott, the one that tried to fill the emptiness, turned to you all when that plan failed. It latched onto you to make ignoring how much I miss my old family easier. So whenever something came along and tried to take you away, other humans, old demons, _another_ fire, I just… snapped.” You were clenching your teeth, and you were almost certain that your nails had left thin trails of torn skin and blood beneath your pants. You lost the fight to keep your eyes open, but even when they slammed shut, fresh tears filtering through your eyelashes to run down your quivering face, you kept talking.

            “I wasn’t being nice, I wasn’t being the hero everyone respects, I was being a sad little kid just trying to make the world make sense. That’s all I am, just a sad, scared little kid trying to run from my past and hide behind anyone I can.” You moved your hands, futilely wiping at the almost endless stream of tears bleeding through your eyelids. “All I’ve ever done is _use_ you to fill the void where there should be _something_! I might've tried to teach him to be kind, but in the end, I’m no better than Flowey. I…”

            Arms grabbed you, but when they pulled you in, you were hanging over someone’s shoulder instead of being pressed into their chest. The brush of foreign Determination told you it was Chara, the only other person in the room with that capability. Their arms shook, just as unstable as your entire body, but it wasn’t out of sadness. That was how it looked from the outside, but you could feel the way their muscles tightened and released, how their hands grasped at you, and you could hear the distinct growl in their voice. No, they were unmistakably furious, more so than you could ever recall.

            “Shut up, you idiot! Stop talking like you’re just another psychopath out for only their own gain.”

            “My children, please…!” You could hear Pauly moving, somehow stopping Mom from interfering.

            “So what if you wanted to be loved? That’s called life! If that’s a sin, then everyone on this stupid rock is going straight to Hell! At least you went about getting it the right way. There isn’t a single person in this town that doesn’t love you. Not the savior of monsters, not the time keeper, _you_ , Frisk. They love you for the kind hearted, open minded person that you are. If they lost you, they would feel exactly how you feel right now.” Their voice was starting to shake, their grip as tight as possible.

            “So stop comparing yourself to heartless beasts that don’t deserve love. You’re not like that. You’re…” They tilted their head down, nuzzling into your neck. A thin trail of moisture wiped off on you. Their voice was hushed and burdened. “You’re not me.” That one sentence, as simple as it was, struck a chord you didn’t know you had. Here was the person who once tried harder than anyone to erase who you were. Now, they worked harder yet to help you define yourself. Gratitude flooded into your Soul, enough to make your worn, limp body return the hug.

            “Even if you don’t, I love you anyway.” They sniffled, then laughed softly.

            “See what I mean? I’m trying to break you out of your funk, but you’re still going out of your way to help me.” You smiled, the gratitude warming into a pleasant hearth in your spirit. A human hand patted your head.

            “You’re going to be just fine, Frisk. Your journey to recovery is finally starting, and if you ever get lost, remember that you’re not walking that road alone.” You opened your eyes, looking up at Pauly through a sheet of blurring tears, and nodded. “Now, you should get up to bed. It’s already four in the morning.” Before you could respond, Mom came in to take both her children in her arms. She was shaking, too, completing the set.

            “Frisk, I will need some time to properly assess what I have heard tonight, but know that no matter how you view yourself, I will always love you for who you are. It would be hypocritical for me to behave otherwise, seeing as I have erred in the same manner.” She pulled you closer for a moment, shifting her weight towards Chara to prove her point, before letting you go. “Asriel, would you please help Frisk to their bed? I do not believe they have much strength left to spare.” They nodded, easing you from the hug in a way that left you supported by an arm over their shoulders.

            You had made your way no further than a few steps from the table when she followed up with, “And I shall overlook your choice of language this once.” You could feel the blush forming beneath their fur, but they refused to actively acknowledge what she had said, instead focusing on getting you to your much needed sleep.

 

-

 

            “Thanks for that speech. Needed it.” You looked across the bedroom at Chara, who was slipping into their sheets to mirror you.

            “Yeah, you and me both.” They were tired, too, but not because of the late hour. It sounded like they were still deep in thought. “Hey, did you mean what you said?” You raised an eyebrow.

            “Didn’t lie at all, but which part do you mean?” They breathed heavily, apparently upset that they had to say it.

            “That part about loving me. I know you don’t hate me, even though you have every reason to, but I can barely picture you tolerating me at the best of times. I’m not made of glass, so if that was just for the cameras or directed at Asriel, let me…”

            “Chara.” They looked directly at you, not expecting your serious tone when you were half way to blacking out. “I meant everything I said. I know how tempting it is to abuse Saves, how easy it is to start thinking nothing matters when you can just try it over whenever you want.”

            “But what about when I couldn’t?” They weren’t angry or even upset, just curious. “I live every day with seven reminders that I was just as much of a terror before the Saves as during. I got my own brother, six innocent humans, and countless monsters killed, and the ones who did recover still aren’t quite right. How can you love someone like me?”

            “Because that’s only who you were. The fact that you feel guilt about it and are trying to make amends and be better is enough for me. You, me, and Asriel, we’re all broken, and now we can help put each other back together.” You let the words linger for a minute before closing your eyes. “Would the demon you think you are really open their heart to help someone else?”

            Chara didn’t respond. You were tempted to open your eyes and check on them, but after everything you had been through, the lure of sleep was too strong. As you drifted to sleep, you felt the presence of the true you, hidden under the paint. They were weary, fearful of what came next, but, above all else, they were happy to be free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh, been building this plot thread up for a while now. Seeing it come and go is an odd experience.


	21. Ever Vigilant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those who watch the closest tend to miss the most.

            My last swing was followed by a harsh snap, the chain that held the punching bag up breaking. Chunks from the broken links clattered to the floor alongside the limp sack of gravel they used to support. I smirked cockily, admiring my newfound strength. The old equipment just couldn’t keep up with the DT charged bull shark Sans had helped build me into. I started thinking about getting an upgrade, maybe see if Alphy knew any more sturdy…

            That name made my train of thought derail. I clenched my fists until I heard scales cracking, but it didn’t help quiet the raging argument I was holding with myself over her. Half of me looked at her as fondly as ever, admiring everything from the effort she put into improving herself since our relationship started to the cute way she puffed her cheeks out when she got annoyed. I loved her, and I didn’t want to imagine life without her.

            But the other half retorted by pointing at the metaphorical dagger in my back. For years, I lived without knowing a thing about my early childhood. It was just a big hole in my memory. You always hear about people repressing things and how trying to remember them causes migraines, but for me, it was more like there wasn’t even anything there to remember in the first place. It was frustrating, but, thanks to Asgore and Gerson, I managed to pull through and put my lack of a past behind me. Then Terry came along and revealed that not only had it been Chara who was to blame (big shock there), not only had it used her hands to do it, but it was all revealed in high definition while Alphys was watching months ago.

            And she hadn’t told me a damn thing.

            I confided my insecurities in her years before we were a couple. She knew exactly how much it hurt to not know where I came from. My head being scrubbed clean of any memories of my family, my parents, Hell, maybe even siblings, how could I know, was what made me start berserking as a warrior in the first place. Just being able to stop thinking for a little while and hit something used to be enough to set me right, but now that I knew that there was someone close with knowledge she kept to herself, I could only feel betrayed.

            The front door squeaked open, and, glancing up at a clock, I realized it was about that time. I repressed my angry side as well as I could, saving the bottled fury for my own training later, and turned to grin the way only I could at my student.

            “Hey there, punk, you ready to sweat!?” Frisk, decked out in sweat pants and a sweat band, gave a thumbs up. I didn’t know how appropriate their shirtlessness was, having no knowledge of their gender to compare to the norms, but I could appreciate how built they were either way. They had a good amount of bulk, but they still managed to be pleasantly streamlined. I had only figured not being weighed down by unnecessary muscle mass would benefit their dodge heavy combat style when I planned their training around keeping a lithe physique, but it came with the bonus of complementing their natural androgyny. “Good! You’re probably raring to go, so we’ll keep the warm up brief. A hundred laps around the gym, double speed!” A corny, enthusiastic salute, and they were off, a blur to the untrained eye.

            That doctor of theirs called in earlier that morning, asking me to help them work out any kinks from their nervous breakdown. Sure, he had to talk above my resulting angry freakout at the news that my best human friend had an accident and, again, no one told me anything about it until it was too late, but when the whole situation was explained, I gladly accepted the request.

            “I hear you had to miss school today. You get all your homework from Toriel, or are you waiting until Monday?”

            “Finished already.” Their voice was all distorted at the speed they were going, kind of echoey and coming from every side of the room at the same time. “Wasn’t that much assigned today. Teachers knew no one would be working over the weekend.”

            “Because of the concert, right.” Mettaton had kept his plans a secret to almost everyone, but, as the local head of security, I was made privy to the whole operation ahead of almost everyone else. It was going to be a town wide, two day extravaganza (the last part was his words, not mine), and even people who stayed in their homes were likely to be too distracted to get anything meaningful done. Seriously, what sort of narcissist puts a speaker on every block throughout a whole town? “You got lucky, punk. Slept in till noon, no homework to make up, and a starring role in a big show. You got an outfit picked out?”

            “Mettaton’s working on a dress for me. Dark blue. Should be nice.” It didn’t take much imagining to see them working that sort of look.

            “You should try some of those elbow length white gloves while you’re at it, nice and tight to bring out your muscles. It’ll say, “I'm beautiful, but I can kick your ass, too!” Frisk laughed, but I knew they would like the idea in the long run. “Oh, and stay away from high heels. Those things are murder on your back.”

            “That’s what he told me, too. Going with matching slippers.” Our little Frisk was growing up so fast. They weren’t even a teen yet and they already knew what fashion traps to avoid.

            They came to a stop in front of me, hopping from foot to foot. They seemed way happier than usual. They were usually pretty positive anyway, but this bounciness was new. I loved it!

            “Nyahaha! Someone must’ve had extra sugar in their cereal!” They shrugged, shoulders alternatively bobbing in rhythm with their footfalls.

            “Nope, just happy about new breakthrough, that’s all.” I was a bit confused at first. Brick smashing was last week’s assignment, not today’s. Then I remembered who called to book today’s session in the first place.

            “Oh, Baker’s finally gotten some results? Well it’s about time! I was a month away from calling his rig a scam and helping you myself.” Their hopping stopped, a vision playing out in their head. Whatever it was, it made them chuckle. “Did vision me punch your problem in the face?”

            “Counter threw it into a wall.” Close enough.

            “So, what was up anyway?” I almost tacked on a disclaimer, but I knew letting them bury a problem was a big mistake. Thankfully, they didn’t even seem that hesitant to tell me.

            “Associated all of you with my birth parents. The memory of their loss pushed me to be someone I’m not. Never realized it until Pauly pointed it out.” Huh, that was surprisingly mundane, and personally relatable.

            “That’d do it. Letting the past get to you can mess you up like that.” They tilted their head at me, and the air gained a few pounds of tension. They were sharp enough to know I was drawing parallels, and, if I gave them a chance, they’d pull an explanation out of me kicking and screaming. I needed to redirect the conversation. Or, better yet…

            “Ah crud, there goes the mood. Change of plans, pop sparring match!” I leaped back to the far side of the room, rearing back and flexing with the loudest roar I could muster. Frisk, used to my hot blood, calmly but quickly made their way to the opposite end of the arena.

            “Let’s do this, punk! Ngaah!” I slammed my fists together, pulling the left away to unsheathe a spear. Yes, I always wanted to do that, and yes, it was as badass as I hoped. It was only slightly diminished by Frisk not pulling out their swords, instead taking a defensive stance, their lightning shield forming around their arms. Striking an unarmed opponent didn’t sit well with me. “Come on, get your weapon ready!”

            “Swords were never mine. They came from the fake me, and they’ll stay with them.” They smiled, their resolve firm. “Besides, I beat you with a stick once. This is just evening the field.” I almost forgot that they were always armed with a sharp wit. The fire of their determination, the regular kind, ignited my own, and it burned bright in my Soul.

            “Fine, then let’s see how the _real_ you fights! En garde!” With no further warning, I flung a spear at them, the air whistling as it carved its way towards them. They made no attempt to dodge, instead angling themself to face it head on.

            I was close to yelling at them, telling them to dodge like an over enthused spectator, but my left eye started to tingle. I focused more energy towards it, and as my second sight overlapped with the first, I was almost overwhelmed by what I saw.

            In the physical plain was Frisk, still and reserved, but in the magical plain was what could be best described as a force of nature. A storm of golden Determination tore through the room, and its center was no less fierce. It flowed over their skin like water, bubbling up from the center of their chest, and the entire surface crackled wildly, stray bolts that broke from their protective second skin. All the resolve I could muster barely kept me from crumbling at the sight of Frisk’s unbound power given form.

            The spear closed in on them, and, though it was comparable in size to their body, it was little more than a splinter to their other side. I could’ve sworn it would bounce off with no effect if they let land. Instead, they spared my dignity by at least doing it in a cool way. Their right hand, pointer and middle fingers extended, thrusted forward, meeting my attack at its tip. The spot flashed, the spear holding briefly before giving way to the superior force. The tip shattered, and the length of the rod was biparted as it slid down the lumber mill that was Frisk’s arm. The two cleanly cut halves landed uselessly on the floor behind them, evaporating into mist shortly after.

            Even though I was genuinely intimidated, I still had enough composure to see the alterations to their fighting style. Not even a week ago, Frisk would have dodged the attack and closed the distance, looking to pin me in place with a blade held to my vitals, but I was trained to deal with outright attacks like that. Their power was considerable, but it was unevenly spread, wasted by the constant movement.

            The Frisk that was before me now, by contrast, wasn’t nearly so reckless. They stood there, immovable, any attack that neared them quickly dealt with so they could return to a resting position. Some might call it a lazy tactic, but I could see beyond the moment. I could see, no, feel their power building. They weren’t wasting time. They were watching, waiting for the perfect time to land one decisive blow. In all my years of combat experience, this was the first time I felt as though I was truly being stalked by an apex predator. I had never felt so on edge from a simple round of sparring, as though I was in real danger.

            And I had never been so excited.

            “Hell yeah! Now _that’s_ facing a problem head on!” They extended a hand, curling their fingers in a mocking ‘come at me’ gesture. Spears formed in each of my hands, and I pounced without a moment’s hesitation. I twisted myself midair, going for a wide sweep at the ankles. I expected them to hop backwards, put some distance between us so they could pop back in and retaliate when my headlong rush petered out.

            Instead, they hopped _forward_ , planting a hand on my right shoulder and pushing off of me to roll over my back. Just before we lost contact, a pulse of electricity shot through my arm, my hand locking up tight enough to shatter the spear it held. I managed to pull the rest of my body out of the shock, using my circular momentum to turn and face Frisk again as I landed.

            It was then that I realized that I couldn’t feel my right arm. It dangled from my shoulder, swaying freely without my input. I couldn’t so much as twitch a finger. The metaphorical shock, unlike the literal, wore off quickly, and when it did, I found myself laughing.

            “So this is how an aggressive pacifist wins a fight, eh? Hard to fight without my main hand…” They gave a small grin, the most any sort of pride could change their expression. “…But joke’s on you! I’m ambidextrous!” I chucked my other spear, my accuracy just as on point with my off hand.

            Once again, they split it like the first, but I knew better than to come charging in after it. One more stun touch like that and I’d be left with kicks and headbutts. I could totally make do with that against a normal opponent, but this was Frisk, and they were using a completely knew technique, to boot. As confident as I sounded, I knew being one arm short was a bad enough hinderance against someone as seasoned as them.

            I threw myself to the right, dashing and throwing as many spears as I could generate their way. Each ended up as little more than shards on the floor behind them, but that was to be expected. I was biding my time, too, waiting for one little opening of my own. It was a like a dance of flames, the patient volcano amidst the wild forest fire, each waiting to overthrow the other.

            Of course, it wouldn’t do to forget that this particular volcano could travel and breakneck speeds if it so desired. On my third lap, Frisk put way more effort into a counter swing than before, my red flag going up just as Frisk rocketed from their standstill towards me.

            They jumped, pointer finger on their left hand out as they swiped down towards my left shoulder. I ducked at the last second, their fingers grazing the side of my face. I backed away as quickly as I could, my excited, probably psychotic grin falling away as I felt the strap of my eyepatch loosen. Awareness flooded my senses and I scrambled to grab it, but it was too late, Frisk’s battle focus breaking as they saw the white, crystal like pupil floating in the void of my socket.

            “Undyne, your eye, it’s…!” I finally got my hand on the fluttering cloth, and it was crushed in my claws, the only action I could take that wasn’t loudly cursing myself out for letting my guard down.

            “Yeah, I know.” Their body had lost its tension, but, to my shock, their other self only became more active. The energy compacted even tighter, the flow from their Soul doubling in intensity.

            “Don’t worry, I can help.” My heart skipped a beat, putting two and two together to figure out their plan.

            “Wait, I’m not in Undying mode!” That did the trick, their energy slowing until all was calm, an undisturbed lake atop their skin, but the confusion in their expression didn’t waver. I knew then and there that things were about to get really awkward.

 

-

 

            “And that’s that.” I managed to get them to sit down with me on one of the nearby benches, a bottle of water in each of our hands, so I could explain everything, from the other Frisks’ little gift to Sans’s special training. It was a bit relieving that they were as unnerved by the concept as me, like being told I wasn’t the only one who liked a certain show. Beyond that, though, it was about as uncomfortable a talk as I had imagined, full of all sorts of wonderful hypocrisy. “I know I told you off for keeping secrets like this before, but it was just so…”

            “So big in your mind that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it?” I groaned, nodding glumly. “I know the feeling.”

            “Besides, I couldn’t just out and say it to you. How would I know if this…” I pointed at my eye with my thumb. “Was safe for you to see? I’ve seen the wrong smell set you off, and here I am halfway to looking like the same me that’s been haunting you for how long. How could that not be a trigger?” That question wasn’t hypothetical, either, Frisk looking me directly in the eye without any visible reaction. They just shrugged.

            “Maybe because it’s not shooting spear lasers, too?” For once, I was grateful for not looking as badass as possible. “What about Alphys? Does she know.” I cringed, and they took the answer from that. “Why not? She can keep secrets.” It took a bit for them to realize the subtext of what they were saying, and we both decided to not bring it up.

            “She might not have time relapses like you, but there are still things she’s seen that she doesn’t need to see again.” I looked down at my hands, clutching the bottle tighter to make sure they were still in one piece. “You see the other me directly as one of your mistakes, and Alphys sees it as a reminder of hers. She saw me melting on the cameras, dodging death by turning into a blobby abomination. Sound familiar?” They gulped, the implication crystal clear.

            “I didn’t want her to get all nervous around me again. It took your help to get her to stop back when we started going out, and I didn’t want to dig another rift. I don’t think I can take something like that.” That little voice in the back of my head piped up about the back stabbing, and I cracked it over the head for interrupting. I was already confused enough without that argument coming into it. I chuckled to hide the dispute. “Man, for such close friends, we all really have a problem with lying to each other, don’t we?” They recoiled at my words, and the way they hunched over, elbows on their knees, told me that I had opened yet another can of worms.

            “Actually, there's one other thing. Really should’ve told you earlier, but I didn’t know how you’d react. But you told me a secret, I should do the same.” They breathed in, letting it out as slowly as they could. “Remember a few months ago, when Asriel helped the human Souls wake up?” Well, if this was the way the conversation was going now, it was best to just yank the bandaid off instead of tiptoeing around it.

            “You saw my parents die, right?” Their melancholy plumed into a panicked shock, looking at me like some sort of psychic. “Terry told me on Tuesday, when I took her home after their checkup with Alphys.” The explanation eased their worrying, but only a little bit.

            “Sorry for staying quiet, I…”

            “Didn't know if I’d want bloody revenge on her for it?” They nodded, the second cut off less surprising than the first. “Don’t worry about it, I get where you’re coming from. And if you’re still worried, like I told her, that wasn’t really her doing the killing. If anything, I just hate Char…” I bit back on the name, the bone chilling stories of saying it aloud summoning them vivid in my mind. “That other brat even more. Hell, I already planned on sticking them full of holes if they showed up, so this’ll make it even easier.” Frisk nodded, the tension in their muscles loosening up a little. I wish I could chill like that, the other voice recovering from my assault and stomping around in my brain again.

            “I just wish I could forgive Alphys, too.” Their tension was back, but it was less visible this time, a slight disturbance in their DT field. “I mean, I still love her, and I hate myself for thinking like this, but I can’t help but feel betrayed. She knows exactly what I’ve been through, how I up and walk away whenever I watch a kid in a show losing a parent. She knows how long I’ve wanted to know something, anything, about where I came from, but now that she knows something about it, she won't tell me a damn thing!” My hand snapped into a death grip, the cap of the bottle popping off from the pressure. All the water blasted out in a messy explosion, abandoning its mutilated container. “I don’t get it, why won’t she…” A hand cautiously came to rest on my back, rubbing firmly against my scales. I let my arms go, dropping the mangled plastic to the floor as I let my mind empty. The only thing I let myself acknowledge was the understanding touch of my friend.

            “Don’t know for sure, but maybe she thought you would be better off this way.” As much as that voice wanted me to rebuke them for suggesting leaving me in the dark was for the best, I knew that they never said something without a good reason, so I silently waited for the explanation. “Look where you are now. Captain of the Royal Guard, head of an advanced tier gym, respected by everyone in town, happily settled down with someone you love. Now that you know, though, it’s eating you up inside. You’re hyper focused on the past instead of the present you’re in. Trust me, as someone who can change time, thinking like that only makes you hurt worse. Remember how Alphys was before?” How could I forget? She was so torn up about what she did to the Amalgamates that she couldn’t open up to anyone. She dwelled on the past, literally burying it and guarding the mound. When the irony hit, I laughed bitterly, burying my face in my hands.

            “I’m doing the exact same thing now, aren’t I?” They nodded, all the confirmation I needed to realize that they, as always, had a deathly sharp point. “Damn it, Undyne, you’re supposed to be the teacher here, not the student.” I could feel their shrug through their arm.

            “If it helps, I technically spent more than a few centuries total looking at Alphys’s mistake. Made it a bit easier to see it in you." I nodded, the only thing I could do now that the bubble on my back had burst, showering me in all sorts of nasty brain junk.

            “If this is what it felt like for her, then hot damn am I happy I helped her get out of it.”

            “Mhm, and I’m sure she could do the same for you. Talk to her about it. Doesn’t have to be today, but it should be soon. Put this mess behind you and move on. That’s how life works.” I snorted, a little levity sneaking back into my heart.

            “That shrink’s rubbing off on you, isn’t he?” I don’t think Frisk quite noticed before I pointed it out, their hand going still as they processed it. I grinned, putting my arms back down on my lap. For the first time in days, my mind was empty, and that sweet, sweet nothingness was exactly what I needed, like warm soup on a cold day. “Hey, what were my folks like?”

            “About what you’d expect. Dad was a wall of muscle, Mom was more sleek. Both were hot blooded warriors.” Their hand moved, wrapping around my shoulder. “And they both loved their family enough to put their own lives on the line for it.” The picture forming in my head was expected, but no less fulfilling for it.

            “I took a swing before I got dinged, right?”

            “Yep. Present and past you are about the same.” I didn’t show it, but I had a small objection to that statement. Past me meant well, but she was too weak to be anything but a road bump. She was a helpless child. But present me, I was anything but helpless. I was the picture of strength, and I only had up to go. The stars above grew closer every night, and I felt what remained of that poor little girl staring at them in wonder.

            Now that I knew she was in there somewhere, I wouldn't let her down again. I refused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, you were reading that right. Feels like it's been ages since Undyne found out about that, but, in universe, it's only been three days. Are there any theoretical physicists on hand? I need help explaining this anomaly.


	22. Security Breach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is often the all seeing eye that wishes to be blind.

            My bones were in a constant state of vibration, harmonizing with the all pervasive hum that rang through Ebott, both the town and the mountain. It was kind of irksome for a quiet guy like me, but I could put up with it for one measly weekend. Especially since it was, in a roundabout way, to help the kid out.

            I hadn’t seen much of Frisk that morning, even from my various perches made specifically to case the entire area, but the one glimpse I caught was of them running in the general direction of the stage, beaming as bright as the Sun in the sky. How could I be upset with that picture at the back of my head?

            That reminded me to check my watch, its hands sliding closer to eight o’clock by the nanosecond. I scooted back behind the curtain on Muffet’s second story window and blinked, exchanging violet velvet for emerald chlorophyll. I hopped down from the obscuring sphere of leaves, landing on a tree branch with the perfect vantage point of the main stage. I would’ve been more impressed by Metta getting that fifty foot tall, hundred foot wide, orangish-yellow curtained behemoth set up in one night if I didn’t know he had commissioned a small legion of construction drones from Alphys.

            I set my snark aside when the town clock tolled, the audience below me tensing up with sparkles in their eyes. Even the humans, who didn’t have any magic to do it with. I theorized it was a byproduct of a jump in their Souls’ DT output, but I didn’t know anyone almost normal who would be willing to get strapped with sensors to test the idea out. I set the pet project aside, Mettaton slipping smoothly onto the stage with a shower of scarlet rose petals showering down on him. Showoff.

            “Good morning, my darling audience!” Whatever he followed it up with was drowned out by the enthusiastic, banshee like screams of the crowd. Every day gave me more resentment for how ineffective earplugs were for me. “Now now, I know you all adore me so, but I'm afraid you will all have to wait a short while longer to see me strut my stuff.” As if he didn’t do that every hour on the hour anyway. “Instead, I’ve prepared the most royal of opening acts to sate your thirst.” Hey, puns were my territory, pal!

            “Please direct your eternal love and admiration to my dear costar Shyren and her partner in chime, Frisk!” A trapdoor opened, Mettaton dropping out of view, and the curtains parted. Light slowly filled the stage beyond, revealing Frisk seated gracefully on a stool, Shyren settled comfortably into their lap without the extra bulk of her manager taking up room.

            I took a second sweeping look over the stage, and I realized why the bot chose so many of the garish set details. The orange curtains, which encircled and acted as a background for the performer, contrasted beautifully with Frisk’s attire, the navy blue of their dress and cerulean flowers in their hair emphasized by the strategic color choice. The red petals drifted across the stage, carried by little fans tucked into every available nook, giving the stage, and by extension Frisk, a slight mystical highlight that added to the gentle ripples in the foot of their dress.

            The other part that caught my eye was the gloves. White fabric came up to about two inches past their elbow. My first thought was that it was to hide their muscles as to not clash with the gentle tone of their outfit, but then I noticed that the extremely thin garments were skin tight, further emphasizing the shape of their arms instead. Somehow, even in the daintiest outfit possible, they managed to walk the line between masculine and feminine. He might’ve been a hundred times more egotistical than I could take, with little of the sincerity that made me respect my bro, but you had to give Mettaton props for finding designers who could bring out the best in someone instead of covering it up.

            Frisk bowed slowly, their small, soft smile portraying only a fragment of the intense joy I knew was burning in their Soul. Couldn’t have a performer actively squeeing on stage, I guess. They and Shy inhaled, lips parted slightly, and chirpy, cheery, synchronized whistles washed over town.

            This would be where I give a detailed, full bodied description of their tune, but I’ve got the musical ear of a newborn turnip. It was a nice tune, but I was better at reading people than notes. Though, if I was going by my usual skill set, I would say it placed as one of the best things ever put to the air. Everyone in the crowd was enraptured, quietly watching and swaying to the rhythm. The magical aura of Ebott cooled, a sense of calm thoroughly soaking everyone and everything within the town’s borders.

            Everything except one grim faced, bearded human leering from the back row. As the humans at his sides waved like gently blowing leaves, he stood ramrod straight, a petrified tree smack dab in the middle of the grove.

            Even though the weather was warmed up to near Summer levels, he was decked out in a thick, grey jacket, heavy black boots, and an equally dark hat made out of the same material as a ski mask. He looked about ready to pull off a heist, and the bulge in his front right pocket alongside his stowed hand only made the comparison more apt. He was tracing whatever else was in there, and I traced his movements in turn.

            My DT lurched when my mental sketch came back in the shape of a gun. A pistol, small, easily concealed, but more than enough to do damage. I couldn’t tell how many rounds it held or if he had any spare clips stashed away, but even one well placed bullet on the loose was a risk I wasn’t willing to take. I reached out with two fingers, tiny specks of blue magic forming in his weapon’s mechanisms, and twisted. The frontmost bullet became lodged in place, effectively welding the barrel shut. As effective as firearms could be, it didn’t take much for a trickster to render them useless.

            Even disarmed, I knew he could be a threat if left to his own devices. I kept my eye on him, all the way through the remainder of Frisk’s tune and partway into the much demanded encore, until the man rose irritably from his seat. His scowl told me he was upset at the size of the crowd, and the way he turned his ire from them to Frisk made his target clear. He pulled the rim of his hat lower, just covering his eyebrows, and he lurked away, slipping away into the streets.

            Before he was completely out of sight, though, I managed to snap a picture, making sure his face was clear in the image. I opened a text message and typed away as quickly as I could while still looking casual. _‘Need some intel on this guy. Price?’_ I was back in the concealed branch layer of the tree when a reply came.

            _‘You said you were working on a new operating system for your blasters, right? A copy of the code to tinker with when you’re finished will do.’_ Huh. You’d think a one man business would be a bit cheeper to work with. Oh well, Frisk was certain that Pierce’s expertise was worthwhile, so I’d save my grumbling for later.

            _‘Deal.’_

            I pocketed the phone and blinked. My eyes opened, and I was on a rooftop overlooking main street. My mark was slithering through the empty streets, and I could almost hear his teeth gritting over the happy whistling that blasted from the speaker array. With everyone distracted, it would’ve been all too easy to just dust him and be done with it. He was clearly a threat, if not to Frisk, then to the people they loved, but I needed to be thorough in my operation.

            Until I had more intel, I was left to watch and wait. Not a move he made that weekend went unnoticed, and every scrap I received from my source was recorded. It reminded me so much of the old days, but I didn’t let the nostalgia blind me. It was a judge’s job to be impartial in pursuit of the truth, and I was the best at what I did.

 

-

 

            The sun was setting on the second day of the concert, and nothing was stacking in the defendant's favor. Barry Harrison, as Pierce had found. Forty-three years old, unemployed, almost invisible in the eyes of the general public. The only things anyone had to say about him were in reference to how surly and rude he was, especially after a long night of drinking. No family to speak of.

            He did, however, have one notable club membership. His name was listed on the long deleted website of the now defunct Association of Humanity’s Will. Good thing Pierce was versed in the ways of the internet. Heck if I could’ve found that intel on my own. I could’ve made an educated guess, but a guess without proof is a sniper rifle without a scope.

            I had all the data I needed. Barry was a bum that roamed the town, stopping just long enough to grab a cheap bit of booze. He was a mess with no redeeming qualities to his name. Could he be turned halfway decent with enough time? Maybe, but the harm he was capable of in the meantime didn’t outweigh the possible benefit. If he so much as pointed his piece at someone unprovoked, I’d show him real quick whose was bigger.

            He staggered down the sidewalk, his drained bottle discarded some time ago. He wiped what I could only hope was misaimed booze from the long, ruined set of grey hairs he called a beard, flopping against the nearest house for support. It was lucky for him that the concert was still in full swing on the other side of town, otherwise someone with authority might’ve spotted him stumbling around the King and Queen's neighborhood and had him arrested for public intoxication. I was more interested in actively violent crimes, myself.

            Suddenly, his haggard, troubled movement stopped, and he stared bewilderedly down the road. I followed his eyes, and my Soul nearly dropped to my feet when I saw Frisk skipping along in our direction. They were completely relaxed, savoring the last bit of a waffle cone, relying on their ears to guide the way as they let their eyes close fully in satisfaction. They didn’t have a care in the world; not the crumbs covering their sweater, not the one or two tiny petals that shook free from their ponytail, and definitely not the drunkard staring them down with eyes like burning coals.

            Barry skittered into the space between two houses, peeking out from behind a corner at my quickly approaching pal. His scowl warped into a lopsided, snarling grin, and the metal of his pistol glinted in the fading light. Now, I was fully aware how little a threat he actually posed, even if I hadn’t busted his pistol from the inside the day before, but the fact that he was trying was enough to set me off. I pulled my own tool of destruction, an open and ready left hand, and reached out to him, a plan to abduct him to the deepest, most secluded chunk of the woods and finish him formulating in my mind…

            …But it all unraveled when the tip of a knife bursted through the left side of his chest, a pale hand clamping down over his mouth. My first stab at who was behind it was confirmed with a muffled laugh, a pair of red eyes gliding through the shadow of the house up to their victim’s ear.

            “So, you like to play rough, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Look, Chara's pulling a Chara. Only took three side stories and twenty-odd chapters more to follow through on that stinger."
> 
> Hey, there were, like, ten other character plotlines to explore. Of all of those, I think "Chara stabs people" is the one that would be the hardest to forget, right?
> 
> "Whatever you say, Naruto."
> 
> No need for the snark, slightly humorous representation of my instability.


	23. Bitter Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, why is it always the nasty stuff that works?

            Your heart was lighter than air, its buoyancy lifting you up a little higher with each skip. Pauly had been absolutely right in saying that you needed a weekend to let everything go. A straight two days without world ending crises or timeline shenanigans had let you reset in peace, compounding with your earlier self reflection to help clear away the shards of the false persona you had subconsciously forged. Never before had you felt so alive than in that one moment, skipping through town with a half eaten ice cream cone in hand, eyes closed to soak in Mettaton’s live performance being broadcast through town.

            If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought Pauly had known all of this would happen ahead of time and planned it accordingly. But, then again, you had seen more outlandish things than future sight, and you were living proof that time wasn’t as solid a force as some skeptics would make it out to be. It was entirely possible that he…

            _‘Ahem.’_

            …Was just really lucky with his timing. Gaster’s focus diffused back into the world around you, and you let out a sigh. You were thankful he was up in your head to help keep you from returning to serious matters on your vacation, but his cold glare was never all that pleasant.

            You licked your lips, popping the last bite of the cone into your waiting mouth. You made sure to savor that little bit of chocolate that always pooled at the bottom, soaked with the excess sugar that the ice cream itself couldn’t contain. It, much like your day and the mood it resulted it, couldn’t have been any sweeter.

            Your peace, however, wasn’t meant to last. A ripple ran through the air, only a slight disturbance in and of itself, but the magical undertone it carried turned your blood to a frozen sludge. You froze in your tracks, your agitated Determination dowsing for the source.

            _‘Frisk, keep moving.’_ Gaster’s voice was firm, and it offered no room for argument. Even so, there was something about the air that was too familiar for you to simply let it be.

            _‘What was that?’_

_‘Trust me, of all the things in this world, this is among those that you need to know the least. For the love of all that is sane, keep moving.’_ You felt Gaster’s Soul quaking in your chest, and the fear he locked out of his voice instead ran throughout your body, sinking like heavy stones in a stream. They pooled at the bottom of your being, a sense of dread weighing your mind towards flight rather than fight.

            Then a second wave washed over you. This one was just as brief, but now that you were aware of it, you were able to get a more complete sense of what it was. Your brain pulsed in your skull. The darkness of your Soul stirred, and a pair of red orbs burned in the shadows of your mind. Your senses heightened to their peak functionality, letting you smell the smoke in the air. It tasted of human terror and death, sour on your tongue.

            You turned to the houses to your left, all signs pointing to the gap between two homes. You took a step towards it, but Gaster put all his strength into binding your other leg.

            _‘I beg of you, don’t get involved. You risk overwriting all of your progress at once!’_

_‘What good is my progress if theirs is lost?’_ His spirit lost its strength, realizing that you already knew who you would find there. He released his grip on your body, letting you continue your trek to the source of your discomfort.

            You swallowed the last of your hesitance and turned the last corner, and the sight that met you made your stomach knot itself in disgust. In the middle of the alley was a man you didn’t recognize, but then you had trouble recognizing him as a man at all. He was incased in unyielding flame, a tempest that ate away at him with the fervent hunger of a starved beast.

            Skin and muscle gave way to bone, and it, too, failed to stand up to the beast. First was the snap of a femur, then the clattering of a hand as it fell from its wrist. With a crack that failed to be heard over the roar of the fire, what remained of the agonized man surrendered to the assault, reducing to a cloud of noxious ash. Your intestines clamped shut, almost sending an afternoon’s worth of meals back from whence they came.

            When the smoke cleared, the first thing you saw, as you had expected from the start, was a set of red eyes. They burned brighter than any fire, and the manic grin that accompanied them glowed in the light of their handiwork. Any token denials you could supply failed when the blade of a knife gleamed with the dying embers.

            “Chara?” Their deranged joy vanished, looking up from their work to you. The palm of their hand lit up, their knife slipping into the depths of their own flesh before the cavity resealed.

            “How did you…? I was hiding my presence, how did you find me?” Part of you imagined it was due to letting your mind sink into the environment, where their energy was much harder to cloak, but the vast majority cared more about the what than the how.

            “I thought you had changed.” The emptiness of your voice hit them harder than a raging Undyne, sorrow and regret flashing in their eyes. It didn’t last, though, a cold screen covering the turmoil.

            “Don’t you see, I have. This worm…” They kicked, launching ash into the air. “…Was about to kill you. I did what had to be done.”

            “I can protect myself.” You didn’t yell. You refused to let anger consume you. You were better than that. “And we both know death doesn’t stick for me. I would’ve come back.”

            “But not without a new wound on your Soul.” They clenched their hand tightly, painfully, one of the few known methods of staving off the memory of death. “You would’ve felt the wound every night in your dreams, every time you closed your eyes. A drop in the bucket, but every bit counts when it’s almost overflowing.”

            Your heart still protested, but your mind bent to their reasoning. Even then, you could feel your skin and muscles trying to unravel at the seams. You ached. You stung. You burned. You had grown adept at muting such phantom sensations, to the point where you could forget they were a thing, but they always threatened to reemerge when your guard was down. You couldn’t deny the pain your method brought, but still…

            “He could’ve gotten better.”

            “sorry, but nope.” Chara’s skin almost went ghost white at the sound of Sans, perched on a rooftop overhead. He hopped down, softening his landing with blue magic on the soles of his slippers. “did a background check on ‘em. member of the ahw, lost his marbles when they went belly up. he was probably about a week away from passing on from all the booze, but..." He carefully nudged the ash pile with his foot, a brief tab to keep it from staining his pink slipper. “…can’t really verify that now. point is, he was a mess that had to go.” Chara actually laughed, relieved to hear they were apparently in the right.

            “S-see? You know someone’s trouble when Smiles here is on their…” While they pushed their point, Sans pulled something from the dust with blue magic. A little shake removed whatever clung to it, revealing a pistol, likely what he was going to use against you. To your shock, he turned it to Chara, directly between their eyes, and pulled the trigger. The only had enough time to flinch before…

            Click. Nothing came out, not even a puff of air that would signify a blank. The shock passed, and a look of anger and incredulity crossed their face.

            “What the Hell!? I thought we were cool!”

            “we are. just showing you that i jammed this thing a while ago.” He threw it to Chara, letting them catch it to show how harmless he thought it was. “you think i'd let a live wire like him go around town freely? guess you suck harder at reading people than i thought.” You couldn’t help but notice the lack of jokes coming from the otherwise unflappable skeleton. Your mouth went dry at the thought.

            “So what? I still got him, and he was a target worth getting, so what’s the harm?” Sans tapped his foot, impatience clear in all but his voice.

            “what if he hadn’t been?” Sans sighed, bracing himself for a long speech. “that’s always been the problem with you. stab first, ask never, that’s your way. it was as true in the underground as it is now. you never stop to think about what you’re doing, you just do it.”

            “so tell me, what if, hypothetically, he could’ve changed? what if all it took was the right person and the right words to put him back on the right track? what if, one day, he could’ve become a good friend that sought to protect that person?” There was a pause, long enough for both you and Chara to piece together what he was comparing your would-be attacker to. “i’m here to tell you that, this time, that isn’t the case. but if it had been, and I hadn’t been here, you would’ve killed someone with the potential to improve, someone just like you.”

            “Shut up!” Chara’s skin heated up drastically, a wave of Determination bringing them to the edge of full combustion. “Whatever could have been, whatever should have been, I don’t care! That bastard wanted to ruin what Frisk has worked so damn hard to build, and there’s no way in Hell I was going to let him get away with it, so screw him! It’s his own damn fault for pissing me off!” The fear, the sense of betrayal, the confusion and anger, they all fell silent as your mind found the sobering truth.

            “You haven’t changed.” The tension between Sans and Chara faded, both looking at you in various states of confusion. “You’re just like you were before, with us instead of against us, but you’re still the same. You don’t understand how people work, you can’t sympathize or empathize. You just know that me and Asriel make you happy, and nothing past that matters.” Your eyes dropped to your feet, following the sinking mass of your heart. “I guess you really are related to Hedon.”

            “Frisk, wait!” Chara almost rushed to you, but Sans warned them with an extended left hand. Not wanting to incur his wrath, they spoke from where they stood. “Why does it matter so much to you? He wanted to hurt you, your family, and his only reason was to avenge a misshapen wreck of an organization. He was worthless, right down to his motive!” Their words didn’t pacify your analysis, only supported it. You didn’t bother trying to hide your dejection, Chara rambling on with more and more excuses to try to make you feel better. You turned inwards, contemplating what you would do next.

            _‘Perhaps we should quarantine them until Asriel returns. Having him share a body with them might subdue their violence, or at least direct it in a more appropriate manner.’_

_‘That would only cover up the problem, a bandaid for a broken rib.’_

_‘Hmm, a fair point. Normally, I would recommend a number of lectures, but I feel they would be ineffective. They have no bedrock to build from, so it would either be lost on them or applied inappropriately.’_ Gaster’s thinking was in line with your own on that point. They didn’t understand your point of view on the base level. Unless they could see how you saw, anything you could appeal to them with would be meaningless…

            A thought occurred to you. An idea that offended you so deeply that you hid it from even Gaster’s understanding presence. It was horrible, risky beyond all measure, and sickened you to your core. And yet, you knew first hand that the most repugnant of remedies were often the most effective. Pauly had all but taken a sledgehammer to your sense of self to help you rebuild it properly, and now it seemed it fell to you to do the same.

            “Sans.” Whatever Chara had been saying was cut off, Sans looking at you attentively. “Take Chara to the flower patch in the Underground. The one in old Home.” His eyes widened, as if to ask why, but he voiced no objections.

            “‘kay.” He put a hand on Chara’s shoulder, and they didn’t fight it, too preoccupied with staring worriedly at you.

            “And also…” You reached behind you, tugging Gaster’s mask free of your sweater. His alarm only grew as you slipped your head out of the connecting string, rendering it completely separated from your head for the first time in almost a year.

            _‘Frisk, what are you doing?’_ You held it towards Sans, his surprise saying no further instruction was necessary. _‘Wait, you need my assistance to stave off assaults on your mind, do you not? Is this truly worth the risk?’_

            “kid, are you sure?” You nodded.

            “Some things need to stay buried.” You refused to explain anything more, and they didn’t prod. Sans, his hand slow and careful, gripped the other edge of the mask. In the corner of your eye, Gaster waved at you solemnly.

            You relinquished your hold on the mask, and your world shrank at once. You felt so much smaller than before, more vulnerable. You shook off the feeling as best you could, turning around before you could take back your decision.

            “see you there. you remember the way, right?”

            “I couldn’t forget if I wanted to.” You walked away, ignoring the three sets of eyes that burrowed into the back of your head. As soon as you were out of their line of sight, you broke into a sprint, letting the world around you fade into streaks of barely cohesive light.

            At times like this, you liked letting Gaster take partial control as your mind wandered, kind of like he was taking the wheel as you stuck your head out the sunroof. But now, it struck you that it wasn’t an option. The silence of solitude was so much colder than you remembered. Was this what life was like in the not so distant past? You couldn’t recall, the warmth of being surrounded by those you loved having long purged of the loneliness. Not the sorrow or the regret, as you had recently discovered, but you were never truly alone, and for that you were thankful.

            But this time, such comforts would only distract you. You needed to strip yourself down to the basics. Nothing but the clothes on your back and whatever you could pick up along the way. The road ahead of you seemed like a long, endless hallway, the night tinted sky reminding you of the ceiling of the Underground.

            The familiarity roused a dormant edge of your spirit, and the beast therein pushed against the walls of its cage. For once, you didn’t push back.

 

-

 

            “could you stop pacing? there's only so many flowers to trample.” Voices echoed down the halls of Home. In a different setting, they could have been a homing beacon, but you didn’t need any guidance in this place. You could recall its layout perfectly, each previous incarnation’s experience combining into a flawless map. Walking these halls made you at once nostalgic and regretful, joyous and terrified, warm and cold. You held onto that duality, finalizing your preparations. No matter how ready you were, though, the weight in your pocket never grew lighter.

            “What do you expect me to do? Sit still and let it set in how much they hate me?”

            “I don’t hate you.” You stepped into the clearing, finding Chara and Sans had made it well ahead of you. There was no ray of light from above to illuminate the buttercups, but you didn’t need it. Every petal was already etched in your mind. “I already told you that, didn’t I?”

            “Then why are you punishing me like this? We both know the cold shoulder’s worse than any form of torture.” Their hair was frazzled, pale skin slick with nervous sweat. They were paranoid, completely out of their range of experience. Good, they were prepared, too.

            “Sans, could you go to the next room down? Stay out of sight, and only interrupt if something goes wrong.” Sans’s expression was nothing short of bewildered, the firmness of your tone and outlandishness of your demand, not a request, turning over his frame of reference for you, but he didn't argue. He blinked away, knowing that whatever plan you had in motion couldn’t be stopped. When it was just you and Chara in the room, you lowered yourself to your knees, the telltale ping of a new Save echoing in your mind.

            “Seriously, why are we here? What did I do wrong?”

            “That, I can’t answer that. Not in a way you’d understand. You're different from most people, aloof, disconnected, so any answer I give will sound nonsensical at best.” While you still had the resolve, you pulled the weight out of your sweater pocket, setting it on the ground and taking your hands away before looking at it. In front of you was a small wooden box, two halves bound by golden hinges and a combination lock, the entire structure charred. You were thankful to find it after the house bombing so long ago, still intact as you had hoped.

            “Frisk, what is that?” You looked back up to them, curiosity and fear warring in their eyes. Somehow, they recognized the feeling in the air, but you were sure they couldn’t place exactly what it was.

            “It’s how I’ll teach you to see like me. Right now, you are me. Lost in the dark, directionless, helpless, just like how you found me when this all began. With you there, though, someone has to take your place. The voice of dissent when all seemed right, the violent instinct when all I wanted was security.” You fiddled with the lock, turning its six keys until it read “962963.” The lock clicked, and you pulled it open. Your eyes glazed over briefly, refusing to acknowledge what was before you, but you reached in anyway and grabbed. The plastic was as cold and soulless as you remembered.

            “You are me, fighting for your life.” You gulped, restraining your nerves as the beast reacted to the presence in your hand. “And I am you, the spirit of wrath.” Your Soul warped, every nerve in your body locking with the pain. You forced yourself to speak the last line you had prepared. “This day, you’ll know the fear I learned that day.” By the time you finished, your voice had grown shrill, and you crumbled forward.

            Tears flowed in thick streams, the Determination in your veins writhing, pushing against its bonds, burning your entire body from the inside out. You endured it as long as you could, but your body was quickly wilting under the internal assault. You were forced to set your head to the ground, pressing it against the cold steel you held.

            “What the Hell are you…?”

            “ **Stay back!** ” Your voice rang in your ears, your natural tone diminutive and meek next to the scratchy, piercing voice that overturned it. Fire spread from your heart, and your legs were forced into motion by a will that wasn’t your own. As you rose, the cursed metal followed, your fingers twitching erratically across its handle. Chara saw what you had brought in all its terrible glory, and they took a step back.

            “No, you wouldn’t. You… Damnit, Frisk!” Their voice was graveled with anger, but such tiny stones were nothing next to the torrent of unease that extinguished what spirit they had left. Their eyes were sunken in, shaded, and the glow of their Soul had gone dull as their bloodlust dried. They weren’t the predator that day, and they knew it. A growly chuckle answered them.

            “Oh, they wouldn’t, indeed. They’re too soft. Too weak.” Their response to being at the other end of the knife was beautiful, a scrambled rush to retrieve their own blade. Just as they armed themself, their new nightmare closed in, swinging to lock the true monster slayer with its magical doppelgänger. Ungodly fury boiled within, the world tinting the bloody red it should have been dyed a long time ago, and I cackled with delight.

            “ **B U T  I  A M  N O T.** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tick tock, depression o' clock. Wait, where were they keeping that knife? And how come the wooden box didn't completely disintegrate in the fire? And..."
> 
> Shh, do not question the old gods. You'll only hurt yourself.
> 
> "...You only just thought of this and didn't have enough time to build it up any better, didn't you?"
> 
> Shh...


	24. The Black Heart's Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ugliest thing you could ever see is often yourself.

            The first thing I could feel was the intense heat. It surrounded me more completely than any blanket, more like a pool of boiling water than anything. No, it was too thick, closer to gelatin in consistency. And it shook violently. It did little to help shake off the haze over my mind, though. I cracked my eyes open, and all I saw was red.

            “Guys, I think he’s waking up in there!”

            “It would be quite nice of him to finish his nap now. We could use the assistance.”

            They were muffled, but I could still tell they were Bill and Lily, talking as though I had been out for a while. The last thing I remembered was Chara saying they could fix my Determination. How long had it taken? It was hard to say, and harder to care. I was acclimating to the changes in my environment, and all I felt like doing was…

            “Oh no, we need you out here, damnit!” A burst of cool air invaded my space, and it worked like a bucket of cold water. My eyes shot open in surprise just in time to see Bill reaching in and yanking me out of my red bubble by the collar of my sweater.

            “Billy!” Sherri was quick to push him off of me, leaving me to float on my own as I readjusted to the painfully bright rainbow of DT. “You could’ve hurt him like that.”

            “Whatever I could’ve done doesn’t stack up to what _will_ happen if Chara goes and gets us killed!” As fuzzy as I felt inside, that combination of words still registered perfectly.

            “What?” It was then that I noticed how chaotic the normally gentle streams had become. They bent and twisted at awkward angles, and they were shifting around rapidly. The red streams in particular were going crazy, swelling and shrinking, light output raising and lowering, and every point of contact with the other six shades of DT sent ripples of the anarchy through the rest of our conjoined system. The back of my mind was buzzing with unrestrained panic, and I could feel it pushing its way to the rest of my being.

            Good news, it looked like I was relinked to my Determination, just like Chara planned. Bad news, I was back in time to see my body going through pandemonium.

            “What’s going on? Where’s Chara?” A hand grabbed my shoulder, John pointing up towards the top of the space.

            “I don’t know the details, but somehow, Chara got us caught up in a fight against Frisk, and it’s more serious than a sparring round.” He might have thought he was answering my question, but he was only adding to the pile. I wanted to have faith in Chara, but from what I was being told, they had crossed some sort of line out in the physical world.

            “Okay, someone help me pull them out of the controls. I’ll see if I can smooth things over with Frisk.” John’s face went hard, and I knew that I didn’t have the full story yet.

            “I think it would be easier to show you than to tell you.” He pulled me up, and I followed, my head clearing out enough to move of my own volition. As we neared the control point, my mind started to meld back into my body’s, letting me see what Chara saw.

            Of all the things I could have expected, what was out there was near the bottom of the list. I had to double check to make sure Chara was actually still in our body, and the confirmation that they were sent shivers down my spine. Out there was another Chara, complete with that nightmarish grin and a gleaming knife. It wasn't one from another timeline, their colors full unlike the monochromatic invaders, and it wasn’t a vision or a relapse of our own, every swing of the knife leaving real damage behind, which left me with only one conclusion.

            “Frisk’s having a relapse!”

            “More like they made one.” Cliff floated up to join us, Terry moving from his shadow to John’s as though they could help block her from Frisk Chara’s view. “They were giving some lecture on learning to be them or something, then they grabbed that knife and started going screwy.” I thought Frisk was trying to get away from their past, not run towards it with open arms.

            “What made them do something so nuts!?”

            “W-we d-don’t know.” Terry was shaking in her skin, but she forced herself to be there with us anyway. “We w-were out cold up until now. We just got up a m-minute before they started attacking.”

            I didn’t know much about what was going on. I didn’t know why we were back in the Underground or what pushed Frisk so far that they would intentionally trigger a relapse. Most of all, though, I didn’t know why Chara wasn’t fighting back. They had never been above retaliation, even after coming to our side.

            “I’m going out there. Can you guys try to stabilize our body from in here?” When I looked back, Bill was already trying to manually pin an orange stream roughly as wide around as himself. A wayward spike of energy in the stream nearly threw him off, but he clung down even harder using his teeth. Cliff put himself between me and him.

            “We’ve got things down here. You go on ahead.”

            I nodded and closed my eyes. My spiritual avatar faded into the energy, and what was normally a smooth transition was indescribably turbulent. Imagine swimming against an ocean current with lead weights tied to your ankles and wrists. Though, with the intense heat, it might be more accurate to say it was molten lava instead of water. I pushed on, though, and as I closed in on the physical world, I heard a quiet, trembling voice.

            _‘No, stop, get away!’_

            The desperation of the cry fueled my drive, redoubling my efforts.

            _‘What is this hammering in my chest? Excitement, but not fun. Adrenaline, and yet it's pushing me to flee instead of fight.’_

            I could feel that emotion in my heart, an echo of the speaker’s, but when I plugged the leak, I was left with an unrivaled rage.

            _‘I’m shaking, down to my Soul. Is this…?’_

            Just a little further…!

            _‘I’m… afraid?’_

I wanted to yell and tell them I was coming, but there was no air to draw on. I could feel the real world and prepared to breach.

            _‘Someone, help me!’_

            “Chara!” At once, the state of my physical body became known to me. My legs were shaking, but not out of exhaustion. Actual damage was limited, a handful of skin deep nicks.

            In front of me, Frisk was closing in, their knife only a foot from my throat. My will tore command away from Chara, and I responded in kind. I reached out, past their knife, and grabbed them by the wrist, tight enough that my newly reformed claws dug into their skin and drew blood. I rolled my shoulders, sending Frisk flying overhead. They managed to right themself midair and plant their feet down, grinding to a stop about thirty feet away.

            _‘Asriel?’_ Chara’s voice was light, airy, and their presence pressed against mine for comfort.

            “Oh, you’re back!” I felt Chara tucking themself deeper into my psyche, shrinking away from Frisk’s voice. In truth, I would have been back there with them if I had a choice. When someone in my family got the voice of legion, under any circumstances, avoidance was the preferable option, but it was hard to run when sealed in a tight corridor with someone who could easily outpace me.

            “What are you doing, Frisk? Chara’s scared senseless!” I don’t know what I was thinking. Normal Frisk would’ve broken down and apologized profusely, but I somehow forgot that they weren’t Frisk mentally at the moment. They were Chara before they got better, otherwise known as sadism incarnate.

            “It's not my fault they turn into a sniveling wreck in the face of their former greatness.” Their sneer was decidedly less than happy. It was closer to a look of disgust. "They used to be the biggest fish in the pond, but now they’re just a leashed minnow. What happened to the good old days, doing what you want when you want, taking the world in the palm of your hand like a true monarch! Those were the days, those were _our_ days, but you two chickened out.” They shrugged, nose wrinkled. “More for me, I guess, but seeing you two go docile really messed up my groove.”

            “You could have been so much more. Hell, you were more just a few hours ago, me!” Their sadness washed away, that all too distinct display of pride, anger, and glee coming back in full force. “Don’t you miss that feeling? Watching the peons of this world bend to your will before finally snapping? We both know you still have it in you. Just ask that phony assassin you dusted earlier!” All activity in my body stopped, the chill in my blood stopping every possible movement in its tracks.

            _‘Chara, what…?’_ The slightest prod made them recoil, digging into the darkest corners of my mind for sanctuary from examination.

            “You didn’t know? I guess they’ve fallen even farther than I thought. Not even the pride to boast about a hunt with their own brother.” They snickered, knowing full well that every word was ramming a blade into my heart. “Some lowlife, alcoholic bum was pointing a gun at darling little Frisky, so they rammed a knife straight through his heart.”

            “You should’ve seen the look on his face!” Frisk leaned back, one hand over their mouth and eyes bugged out of their head. “No, don’t kill me! I’m too worthless to die to someone as great as… FWOOSH!” They threw their arms up, trails of smoke wafting from their sleeves. “Priceless! I think there was less of him left than any monster.” Their laughter was hard enough to draw out tears. They flicked them away as their temperament cooled.

            “It was a clean kill by every standard. No evidence for the cops, no chance he would forget your face as he burns for his sins, absolutely flawless. Then Frisk shows up, and you practically bend over to kiss their feet for forgiveness.” The sparkle in their eyes faded as a scowl overtook their face.

            “The king of all things, domesticated by a spineless little mouse. You’re a disgrace.” They snickered. “I guess you two are a perfect match, at least. A pair of would-be kings, reduced to peasants by senseless moralizing.” Their hand clenched harder around the shaft of their knife, the blade starting to glow as they fed it DT. “And now you’re both going to die and give your crowns to someone who deserves them. Me!” They blinked, and when their eyes reopened, they were replaced by black pits, a sludge the same shade as the abyss leaking from their sockets.

            “ **T H E T R U E D E M O N.** ” They lunged forward, but in my head, time slowed to a crawl. I could feel everyone else in my body looking at us, wary of what would happen.

            _‘Asriel, I…’_

_‘I thought you changed.’_ My words cut deep, straight to the bone.

            _‘I have, I swear! I only killed him because he wanted to kill…’_ A shiver ran through them, their thought cut short as they were compelled to look through my eyes at the monster before us. _‘But, I enjoyed it. He was afraid for his life, and I… I was laughing, taunting. I… Oh God.’_ A chord in their heart was plucked, and the terror echoed through our shared being. They didn’t have to say a thing. I could hear it in my bones.

            I really am the same.

            The thought was punctuated with a swipe of Frisk’s knife. I dodged to the side, burying the instability that was worming its way through my system. The next time they charged, I dropped to the floor, swiping a foot at their ankles. They recognized the move, hopping to dodge it, but they weren’t expecting my second spin. The next kick was higher, striking them where their jaw connected to their head. They flew to the side, face first into the dirt, and I was granted a few seconds to return to a resting stance.

            _‘Terry, John, Lily, Cliff, is this how you felt when…?’_ Their presences perked up at the sound of their names. _‘I never knew it was like this. So helpless, so terrified. God, I’m… I’m sorry.’_ They were reduced to tears, their DT in my veins falling beneath the rest. The orange and light blue followed it, trying to wrap around it.

            _‘Get back up here, man.’_

_‘Sulking later, fighting now!’_

_‘Bill, Sherri? You, too, I’m…’_

_‘Damnit, not now!’_

_‘Asriel, they aren’t responding in here. They’re curled up under the Souls.’_

            Without them, a seventh of my energy, probably more, all things considered, was inaccessible. I couldn’t find the words to describe how I felt, somewhere between enraged, saddened, and disappointed.

            When Frisk stood up and cracked a sharp toothed grin at me, though, I settled on anger.

            “See, that’s more like it! Why can’t you fight like that more often?” I gritted my teeth, my DT turning into a bottled inferno.

            “We’re not like that anymore!” Every time my voice reached its peak, tongues of fire whipped out from my mouth, licking at my upper lip. “What we were doesn’t have to be what we are. We can change, we can always change! You’re who told me that, Frisk, but now…” I looked over their new, distorted form, and a trail of flames rolled up from my nostrils. I could just make out the colors that it was starting to dye into.

            “Now you go and fall back on us? What sort of example is that!?” My screaming made their smile widen, and every centimeter added threw fuel on the fire in my heart.

            “Yes, that’s it! Get angrier, get completely pissed!” They flourished their knife, its edge burning white, and launched towards me. I took hold of the building power within me, and everyone within looked at me in shock. John was the only one of a mind to speak out about it.

            _‘Won’t you hurt yourself by going so far?’_

_‘I don’t care! I need to do this, but…’_ I approached the limit of what was freely given to me, and it wasn’t nearly enough to match them head on. _‘…I need your help. Please, just this once, lend me your power. Please, I can’t let my family fall like this again.’_ Silence dominated my mind. Tears dotted my eyes, but then one of the streams within doubled in mass.

            _‘Well, what are you all waiting for? If the homeless thief can chip in, why the Hell are the rest of you being so stingy?’_ Heh, leave it to Bill to jump in first. After him, Sherri had no qualms about following his lead.

            _‘Make that two street urchins.’_

Then a third, and a fourth. Lily hummed.

            _‘Cliff and I have seen good people driven mad by that power. We cannot leave our friend to be taken as well.’_

_‘Darn tootin. Wherever you ride, we'll be right there with ya’, pal.’_

            A moment of hesitation, then a fifth joined the cause.

            _‘Terry, you’re sure?’_

_‘Yes. I won’t shut down like I did before. That’s how we died, and I won’t go out like that again.’_ He let her words run through him, then John became our sixth. He didn’t add to the conversation. He didn’t need to.

            _‘Chara, are you watching?’_ Their DT tingled in the pit of my stomach. _‘Good, then watch and learn.’_ The fight was playing out in slow motion. Frisk was locked in a dead charge. Their knife was two feet from my chest. In that chest, in the Soul matrix that replaced my own, Determination was pooling. It burned, hotter than the magma of Hotland, brighter than the Sun. The Underground and the Surface, those realms I once sought to burn to the ground. Now, I burned in their name.

            I reached out and grabbed the knife. Their attack halted, all the strength they had thrown into it absorbed by my heavy, gauntlet like claws. The heart on the back of my wrist was wreathed by a sextuplet of colors, all the Souls that stood beside me. Frisk looked me in the eye and recoiled, their sadistic glee dampened by shock, and I scoffed at their weakness.

            “What’s wrong? I thought you would be ecstatic to slay a god.” The tips of horns poked out just above my ears. My legs were merging together. I had no issues staying upright, though, the wings sprouting from my back gripping the air firmly. “But then, we both know I’m not one.” My voice was deepening into an apocalyptic bellow. At its edges, though, there were softer undertones. I wasn’t speaking alone. Frisk shook off the daze, seething hatred overturning the surprise.

            “How are you taking that form? Shouldn’t your brain be melting from the relapses?” I shrugged, my burning shoulder spikes brushing against the lengths of my horns.

            “I guess having you around is overshadowing my guilt. There’s only room for one terror in this world, after all.” I lashed out, planting my other hand into their gut. They flew back, their knife slipping from my grasp and clattering to the floor beside them. They were quick to reclaim it, rising to their feet to face me. “If it’s going to be one of us, then let it be he who presides over the dead. You still have too much life to live to fall to my level.” They snarled, gripping their blade with both hands. I raised mine, a pair of stars forming in my palms.

            _‘Witness, Chara.’_ Even my thoughts weren’t mine alone. I could hear the other six adding their will to the mix. Having them beside me, supporting me despite all I had asked of them, the elation I felt was almost as vibrant as when I had a true Soul. And I wouldn’t rise as they sank into darkness. _‘Witness now as death begets life. Witness us…’_

            “ **We are the God of Hyperdeath.** ” Frisk could only scowl as we rose, traces of moonlight showering upon us. “ **We shall not let evil rest in this world, even if we must tear it from your ragged, bloody hands!** ” Their legs tensed, prepared to lunge, and I lifted the star bullets to answer. I wouldn’t let the past reclaim anyone else. Not Chara, not Frisk, no one.

            I REFUSED.

            As suddenly as my power had grown, the air around me swelled to match. At once, gravity increased a hundredfold, ripping me from the bottled sky and burying me chest first into the ground. Hundreds of buttercups were eviscerated under my weight. Across the chamber, Frisk was in much the same condition, an aura of blue sealing them against the ground.

            Slow, padded steps echoed from further into the ruins, and when I looked, I saw the outline of Sans moving through the shadows. He stepped into the light, and my heart nearly stopped. My panic might have looked unwarranted from the outside looking in. It wasn’t the first time he had pinned me like that, and I had no doubts that it was far from the last, but this instance broke one of the rules I had learned over my many Resets as an immutable truth.

            Sans never uses his right hand.

            They were the first things to be illuminated, both hands outstretched, fingers curled around an invisible mass. Blue magic weaved up and down his bones, the web running the whole length of his arms. He took another step, and I saw that he wasn’t working alone. Covering his face was Gaster’s mask, an abyssal, magical sludge dripping from its sockets. In the left, a blue ring shined through the nothingness. In the right, a violet ring matched it.

            “We didn’t sign up to watch you two kill yourselves.” The dull, laziness of Sans and uptight formalities of Gaster meshed to create an almost balanced, harmonic voice. Still, even through the illusion of control, I could tell they were straining to hold us in place. Every step they made rattled their frame, and my keen ears picked up the muffled grunts of effort.

            I turned my senses to the field around me, and I could feel its cohesiveness breaking down. It wouldn’t be long before it failed completely. They needed an out. I turned to them, half of my face hidden from Frisk, and winked. They showed no visible reaction, but my binds loosened anyway. The message was received. Unaware of the collusion, Frisk was wildly spitting obscenities and threats.

            “…You’ll give out eventually, and when you do, I’ll rip your ribs out and turn them into toothpicks, do you hear…!?”

            “ **Now!** ” His hands went lax, and I bolted to Frisk. They only had enough time to gasp before I slammed my hands down over them, forming a constrictive cage to take over Sans’s role. They struggled to the best of their ability, but a little knowledge of grappling from Bill was enough to counter any efforts they made. Their few weak knife pokes couldn’t scratch my claws’ metallic shell. “ **Mask them!** ”

            They realized our plan and turned their attention to Sans, but it was too late. They moved face first into the mask, and it latched onto their skin like a suction cup. Purple sparks of electricity rolled from where the two surfaces met, and they howled in agony. One last spark was strong enough to travel through them and to me, making me reflexively back away. When my eyes cleared themselves of the flash, their Chara skin had vanished, leaving Frisk as I knew them behind.

            Sans fell backwards, landing hard on his butt. He was panting from the overexertion, but he would live. For now, he didn’t even have the energy to put his hands back in his pockets.

            “ **Thanks for the save. We don’t think we could’ve…** ”

            “could you do me a huge favor and turn back? that big booming voice of yours isn’t helping me much.” The others went quiet, retracting their voices from mine. My work wasn’t done yet, though.

            “First, let me take care of this.” I eyed the knife hesitantly, flicking it out of Frisk’s limp hand to reduce the amount of contact time. It was a corrupting force, and I wasn’t about to let it out of my sight. I put my hands together, pooling my magic into the space between my palms. It compressed into a dense orb, waiting for my signal to unleash everything it had. I aimed it across the room, at the blade lying in wait in the midst of what buttercups remained, and let go.

            A stream of raw power blasted forth, washing the room in rainbow light. Its scream was a high pitched whistle in the depths of my ears. Smoke rolled from where it touched the ground. Only one thing had ever escaped my ultimate move intact, and then it was by a decimal margin. The last of it petered out, and I pulled my hands back to my sides…

            …Only to see that the knife was still there, entirely untouched, in a crater that used to be green and yellow with plants. I growled and put my hands back together, readying myself for a second go.

            “It won’t work.” I jumped out of my attack, looking down at Frisk. They sounded just like they did before the fight, drained but not in the physical sense. They lifted themself off the ground and, without so much as a limp, walked between me and the knife. They stared at it for some time, blank, expressionless, before whipping a hand towards it. “Eternal Spark!”

            The crater was blasted by a wide, pillar like bolt of purple lightning. Then another, and another. They flailed their arms at it with everything they had, each pass leasing another strike of lightning. In time, their strikes slowed, then stopped. The crater was twice as deep when they finished, but still the knife remained, taunting us with its presence. They sighed, carefully scaling down the pit.

            “I tried to destroy this thing a long time ago. Used everything I had. Brute strength. Hotland magma. Determination. Deep freeze then heat in succession. But nothing could affect it. After a month of work, I decided to just bury it where no one could ever find it. That’s why I didn’t want Gaster with me. The location has to remain a secret.” Conscious of what effect my Hyperdeath form could have on them, I hurriedly pushed myself back down into normal Asriel form. I wished I hadn’t when they kneeled down and grabbed the knife.

            “Frisk, stop, you’ll…!” They looked at me, and, to my surprise and relief, they had no reaction to touching it this time.

            “Don’t worry, I’m drained. Even if the beast did come out, it wouldn’t have much to work with.” They scaled back up to even flooring, and looked me in the eye. “Is Chara listening?” I fished around inside for the answer, and a tingling sensation replied. I nodded.

            “Well, now you know what it’s like for the rest of us. I've suspected for a while that you were different. Not quite human, not quite monster. I told myself that it didn’t mean anything, and, for the most part, I was right. You could act like the rest of us, get along with the rest of us, but I knew that, in some ways, you just weren’t like the rest of us. You were missing something. An element of emotion. Sympathy. Empathy. To an extent, fear. If I wanted you to change, I had to show you what you were missing. Tell me, in your words, what was it?” Slowly, tiredly, Chara prodded at me for control. I gave in, letting them take the wheel, but I stayed in the seat as a copilot just incase.

            “I… I was missing a frame of reference.” They sounded hoarse, even though I knew my vocal chords were working find. “Whenever I fought, I only thought about my side, what I stood to gain or lose. Whatever the other side was fighting for, I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. I got what I wanted for killing, so I killed. Back then, when I was with you, and just a few hours ago, against that guy. No one I faced was a person. They were an obstacle, something to overcome and nothing more.” They looked at our hands, and they shook in our skin.

            “But now, I think I’m feeling what they felt when I fought them. The fear, the wish to survive, everything I live for flashing in my eyes. I never really thought about it before, but now…” They hiccuped, a few tears leaking from our eyes. “I’m scared, Frisk. For once, I'm afraid of dying, just like you.” Frisk nodded, but their expression remained neutral. “What do I do, Frisk? This twisting, gnawing pain…”

            “I can’t tell you what to do. All I know is that you have two choices." They flipped the knife in their hands, holding it by the blunt side of the blade. “Accept the pain as part of being human.” They held the knife out to us, almost forcing it on us. “Or reject it, and go back to what you used to be.” Chara and I were of the same mind, taking a step away.

            “Woah, what are you…?”

            “It’s safe for you.” They grabbed our hand with speed no one could hope to match and wrapped it around the hilt. I almost expected for some evil, ghostly voice to start screaming ‘Murder’ in my head, but, instead, nothing happened. “The only ones who know its full meaning are you and Chara. Six against two. It can’t overtake the whole unless one of you let it.” They pulled away, a weight lifting from their shoulders as they let go of the knife.

            “uh, kid, you sure that’s a good idea?” Sans was as paranoid as us, and he had good reason to be. “couldn’t this wreck all the work you’ve done for ‘em?” They nodded, but they didn’t take it back.

            “I can’t force them to be what I want them to be. It’s their choice, theirs alone. If they can take what it really means to be human, then I can help them. If they can’t, though…” They stopped for a moment, glancing at their feet. “…Then there wasn’t much farther they could go anyway, and I’ll take responsibility as such.” They looked up at the hole in the ceiling, tracking the moon as it poked over the edge.

            “It’s about eleven right now. I’m making a Save at midnight. It’ll be the last one until we take care of Hedon. By then, they should have an answer, and if need be, I’ll have a Save to go back to and prevent the fallout.” They smiled, but I sensed that it was a dark one. “You know, it’s been a while since I’ve Loaded. Back before the other timelines invaded, at least. Wonder if I still know how.” Their eyes glossed over, and they looked at us again. “You’ve gone that long being a decent person. I can’t make your mind for you, but I really hope, when this is over, that we can be friends.”

            Our heart was crushed under their hopeful, but ultimately resigned tone. We didn’t know what to say. We couldn’t say anything. All we could do was nod.

            “Sans, thanks for the help.” He nodded, too, but he didn’t have any quips to go with it. “Hate to bother you any more, but could you…?”

            “yeah, no prob. no need to put you through the long walk back home.” He put a hand on Frisk’s shoulder, but when he reached for mine, Chara spoke up.

            “Actually, could you let us go the long way? I… I need some quiet. To think. And I’m pretty sure Mettaton’s speakers are still going, you know?” He just stared at us for a bit, but he covered up his worry with a light hearted laugh.

            “you think you have it bad? my whole body’s like a big tuning fork. good thing my mind’s got good u-tensile strength.” John gave a light laugh of understanding, the only one of us who got the joke. “eh, you’ll get it when your science courses catch up.”

            Their bodies flickered with the beginnings of his teleportation technique, and I waved at them. Frisk waved back, the mask hiding all but a few faint windows into the torment in their heart. In a blink, they were gone, leaving us alone in the dark. The silence was oppressive.

            “You sure you want to walk the whole way? I could probably grow my wings and just fly us up and out.”

            _‘No, I think seeing the Underground again will help me reflect. Old places in a new light.’_ I waited for any sort of argument from anyone else in there. Seeing as they all died there, I figured there would be some resistance to seeing it again, but no one spoke up. I could feel that they were all awake in there, but they didn’t interrupt.

            “Well, okay. If anyone asks, we just walked out into the woods to rest our ears.” I made for the door to the next room, and I let the memories flow. How long had it been since I walked without any reason to rush down those halls on my own two feet?

 

-

 

            By the time we made it to the surface, Chara was still thinking. Their uncertainty snaked through me, weighing me down as much as them. They apologized for it once, but I waved it off. There wasn’t much you could do about deep seated feelings. We all knew that.

            Instead of going back to town, we wandered into the woods. Somehow, my feet piloted us towards the riverside, where we sat down on a stump. Its surface was a bit craggy and charred. It reminded me of a story Frisk told me.

            “I think this is where Undyne started Frisk’s magic training.” Chara stirred, feeling out the rough surface with me.

            _‘You’re right. I was watching at the time. I think I was still mostly ambivalent towards them, but I felt a little pride when they managed to set this thing on fire unintentionally. It was the first time I had any feeling for them besides as my meat puppet.’_ As quickly as I had raised it, the mood sunk again, dragging us with it.

            _‘Frisk was right about that, too. The only reason I came back to help you was because I felt the need to help them and you. Everyone else, I couldn’t care less about. You two were my world. Any regret I held was because I hurt you. Now, I’m starting to see the bigger picture, and it’s terrifying. So many possibilities, so much uncertainty. How do ‘real’ people handle it every day?’_

            “I don’t really know. I just got back to the whole living-to-the-fullest thing, remember?” Their spirits deflated, and I put together an addition on the spot. “All I know is that I have things I care about, and they help me stay afloat while I deal with the uncertainty. Hold onto what you love, but don’t let that be everything.” They snickered.

            _‘That’s kind of vague, don’t you think?’_

            “That’s life for you.” I looked into the water, remembering a time when the reflection that looked back was wreathed by yellow petals. “You spend it looking for some sort of meaning to cling to when, in the end, there isn’t any. It's the curse of life. Some people can retreat into the arms of people they love and find security and warmth there. Others, they aren’t so lucky. That’s why I’ve been stressing that I love you, because I know what happened to me when I lost that warmth.” I flexed my fingers, making sure they were still there.

            _‘But even without our messed up situation, you’re still going to lose it all eventually anyway, right? People come and go, but we’re immortal now. We’ll remain. Doesn’t it hurt, knowing that, one day, everyone you love now will have to leave?’_

            “Of course it does.” I never told anyone, but one of my worst nightmares growing up was of me turning into a leech and sucking the last of Mom and Dad’s life force out of them on their death beds. But every morning when I got up, they were still there, still smiling, and I took comfort in that. “But I choose to focus on the here and now, to make good memories to go back to when that day comes. I don’t think Frisk would appreciate it much if we give up after they pass.”

            _‘I didn’t plan on it, but whenever I think about it, I can only see myself flying off the handle. Everywhere I look, I see people that could take you both from me, and it pisses me off. I think that’s why I was so quick to turn to murder. A moment of coldness to stave off loneliness looked like a good idea. Somehow, it still does.’_

            “If it helps, I don’t think Frisk was explicitly saying to never do that. They just wanted you to realize that you’re not the only one playing this game, that you're not the only one trying to avoid loss. We’re all alive, and we only have one life to live. Can we justify taking someone else’s? Sans thought it out, so he was in the clear. You jumped to conclusions, so you were singled out. At least, that’s how I interpreted it.” Chara didn’t respond that time. They just stared into the water, and I did the same. After a while, I took a peek at my phone. It was eleven-forty.

            “We should get back home soon. Mom might worry if we’re out too…”

            “There you are!” A thundering yell shot out from the forest, followed by a hard faced Undyne clad in her patrol armor. She was out of breath, which meant she must’ve been running through the woods for a while looking for me.

            “Oh, did Mom or Dad send you? Sorry, it was just so loud in town, I needed a…” She whipped her hands out, summoning a spear to each. It was then that I identified the way her face was curved. It wasn’t anger born of worry, it was simple, vanilla, unstoppable rage, the same type that stared me down when Flowey went genocidal. I jumped to my feet, putting the stump between us for what little cover it could provide.

            “Save the innocent act. I know you’re in there, Chara!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder how many cliff hangers I can fit in before your patience bursts? Only one way to find out: good old fashioned science!
> 
> Speaking of, to any and all geeks/nerds in the audience (we both know you're out there, birds of a feather), I could use some help. I just did my first Hulu binge and devoured the entirety of No Game No Life. Good stuff if you're the anime sort, gives that same sort of cat-and-mouse feeling as Death Note without being nearly as serious.
> 
> The problem? The anime ends after what feels like the first major arc of a long running series, because that's what it is, it aired three years ago, and I can't find any signs of season two on the horizon. The only lead I have is that there are two light novels translated to English (at the time of writing) that go beyond the content of the anime, and three more that are still Japanese exclusive.
> 
> So, if anyone knows anything about further productions on the anime front, let me know. I am desperate for more. (And I already know the rumors about legal stuff and have seen them debunked. No rumor milling here, please.) Barring that, sources for those two translated light novels would be much appreciated.
> 
> Also, I'll be deleting this extra bit of nerdy pleading after this story is wrapped up, which could still be a few months. No need to burn future readers' time with outdated sleuthing stuff.


	25. Snake in the Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tread not where you can't see. Serpents care not for your errors.

            The concert was finally starting to wind down. Two full days of Mettaton’s loudest music blasting through town. It was nice for the first six hours, but after that, it was nothing short of a headache. I would’ve gone off to my little spot in the woods to get away from the noise if I hadn’t been on guard duty for most of the event. Now that everyone was starting to disperse, though, I was thinking about finally hanging the armor up and heading out that way to give my ear fins a break.

            “Excuse me, miss.” I turned around, ignoring the instinct to attack whoever was sneaking up behind me in the middle of the night. The instinct came back when I saw that he was covered from head-to-toe in an identity concealing jester’s outfit. I didn’t know what was worse, the lack of color coordination, every individual patch of fabric on him being a different color than any other, or the creepy mask. It was kind of like a more angular, sinister version of Gaster’s, and something about it rubbed me the wrong way. Still, I was a professional on the job.

            “You need something, sir?”

            “I have a message for one Captain Undyne from my employer. I don’t see any other towering fish people in the area, so I’m guessing that you’re her.” What, didn’t his boss know what mail was? Then again, it could’ve been something too sensitive to put through the post, but that only made this whole thing more suspicious.

            “That depends, who do you work for?” He put a finger over his mouth hole.

            “Sorry, that’s sensitive intel.” And I suddenly had the urge to put my fist through his face. What sort of wannabe crime boss hides behind his goons like this? “And, actually, there’s one other thing I need to do first. A quick survey, if you would be so kind.” My patience was running awfully low.

            “Fine, but make it quick. I have a schedule to keep.” That was a dirty lie, but he didn’t need to know.

            “Oh, it shouldn’t take long at all, just one little question.” He looked to each side, the bells on his hat ringing with each movement of his head. He leaned in close and cupped his mouth from each side.

            “You wouldn’t happen to be acquainted with one Chara Dreemurr, would you?” And I went from annoyed to pissed. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in, flashing my razor sharp glove claws.

            “What the Hell do you know about that _thing_?” He lit up, patting his hands together.

            “Ah, you do know them. That makes things so much easier.” I moved my hand from his collar to his throat.

            “The question, answer it!”

            “Oh, I know many things. How they fell to your Underground under mysterious circumstances. How they got the prince killed by their own hubris. How they killed you more times than anyone can count.” I tightened my grip, fingers sinking into his neck. Somehow, he wasn’t alarmed, and his speaking wasn’t hindered at all. “Don’t fret, I know that you more than returned the favor each time. It’s difficult to make someone who can command time stay down, I understand.” I was at my wit’s end, my tone going cold and methodical.

            “How do you know about the timeline? That’s top secret intel that’s not allowed out of Prince Asriel and Ambassador Frisk’s personal circle.” He only shrugged.

            “You learn a lot of things with a job like mine. And maybe, if you let me go, I could tell you something of the utmost importance like my boss wanted me to. And trust me, it’s quite the juicy tidbit.” I weighed my options, either plugging the leak right then and there, taking him in for interrogation, or going along with his demands. Seeing as people tended to be stronger in proportion to how well acquainted they were with the functionality of the timeline, I decided that it would be easier to play his game. I let him go, but I was ready to grab him again at a moment’s notice.

            “Fine. What do you want to tell me?” He dusted off his tunic and straightened his hat even though neither were out of order.

            “My boss and I agreed that you might like to know that you haven’t seen the last of Chara. In fact, they’re only a mile or two away as we speak.” My eyes shot open, and I was about to grab him by the shoulders when he waggled a finger at me. Frustrated, I put them back down to my sides. “Here, let’s take a look, shall we?” He reached into his cape and pulled out a mirror. I started wondering if he was just plain crazy.

            “What, are you planning on scrying for their location like some sort of wiz…” He waved his hand in front of it, and the surface glimmered. Then it sparked to life like an old TV set. I had the feeling his mask's smile was now a smirk.

            “Yes. And to answer your other question, there’s nothing plain about me. Though I am quite mad.” I didn’t have enough higher brain functions left to question his mind reading. On screen was a clear image of Asriel, sitting down at the edge of the river.

            “Hold on, you said you were looking for Chara. That’s _not_ Chara.”

            “Oh, but isn’t it? Don’t you recall the old legends? Look again, with your other eye.” I hesitated, and I was almost afraid of what I would see, but I relented. My eye patch came off, and my second sight kicked in. It was almost more than I could handle. Asriel’s whole body was one big lightbulb, glowing with seven colors in turn. Orange, yellow, green, purple, two kinds of blue, and…

            “Where’s the red coming from? None of the Souls he has have that color of Determination.”

            “True, the six you know don’t, but think back to the story. It took seven Souls for him to ascend. Seven Souls to replace the one he lost. Six isn’t enough.” He directed me towards the center of his mass, where the Souls themselves floated. They spun around gently, each taking a turn in the front.

            But as my eyes grew used to the sight, the speed of their motion and the brightness of the body around them, I started to see something else. Another Soul right in the middle, motionless. As soon as I saw it, my pulse started to race and my scales loosened. I didn’t recognize the Soul itself, as I swore they didn’t have one, but the presence therein was unmistakable.

            “But, that’s not… How are they…?”

            “They’ve been there since he got back.” The stranger tucked the mirror into his cape. “Poor Asriel was so starved for normalcy, for familiarity, in this strange, new world that he would even take it from someone like them.” He started to hop around me, bouncing from foot to foot like the fool he was dressed as. The little ringing of his head bells might as well have been fire alarms. “So, miss Captain, what are you…?”

            “Move it!” I shoved him out of the way and bolted for the woods. I heard his chuckling over the crunching of trampled bushes.

            “Godspeed, Undying. The Keeper is watching!”

            I ignored the madman’s ranting. No matter what he was, there was something worse on the prowl. The forest passed in a green-brown blur as I forewent my usual path to the riverside. A straight line was quicker. I bursted from the heavy tree line, and just like he showed me, Asriel was there, seated on the stump.

            “There you are!” He whipped around, but relaxed when he saw me. I didn’t know if it was Asriel or Chara or one of the others, but everyone in there had been hiding my mark, and any one of the traitors was more than enough to stoke my fury.

            “Oh, did Mom or Dad send you? Sorry, it was just so loud in town. I needed a…” His words were white noise. I ripped my spears into existence, and he ducked for cover.

            “Save the innocent act. I know you’re in there, Chara!” His eyes twitched, opening wider, but he pushed them back into a normal, if startled mask.

            “What are you talking about?” A part of me was trying to make me back down. This was the prince, who I was sworn to protect, and I was pointed his way by a total stranger who knew way too much to be trusted. My job, my alliances, and common sense were pushing me to apologize, turn around, and beat up the fool.

            But, as ever, the rest of me echoed with the hard facts. As much as everyone strived to forget, Asriel was Flowey, the second greatest threat to ever plague the Underground. A lier, a trickster, a murderer. Deception was in his nature, and I had caught a glimpse of core shaking shock before he could replace it with a mere flinch. And at that moment, as I stared beneath the surface, my second sight dissecting him down to the raw magical level, I could see the symbol of his deceit. The red heart of Chara was there, and, in person, their identity was just as clear as in the mirror.

            “It’s no use lying to me." I pointed the shaft of a spear at my left eye, which he had only then noticed. He recognized it instantly, but its real weight was lost on him. “I’m looking straight through you, and I _see_ them. You’re harboring the single greatest scourge of this Earth, and you have the gall to lie to my face about it.” The act shattered, his mouth going dry. He knew he was caught.

            “I can explain, so put the spears away and we’ll talk. You’re scaring Terry.”

            “Good!” He flinched back, taking another half step away. “For all I know, that Terry is a puppet being strung along by Chara. They were there every step of the way, routing around in her head. Even if it was her, I know she, and every other human that you claim to have, would never share space with someone so wicked. In fact…” I crouched, a growl sliding through my teeth.

            “You could be Chara, too! After all, you were buddy-buddy once, you know everything about each other. Enough to mimic one another if need be. Or, Hell, maybe you’re in cahoots with them, plotting to plunge us into chaos as soon as you get your hands on the throne. That’s exactly the sort of underhanded, dirty move you’re renowned for, right, Flowey!?” His eyes were wide, lines of every color striking through his sclera. Then, his expression hardened, but his body went slack.

            “Undyne, I want to be civil about this, and I can explain everything, but only if you’ll listen. I beg you, put your weapons away. I don’t want to fight.” My hands tightened, and I threw myself forward.

            “Good, then this will be easy! Ngaaahhh!!!” I slashed at the trunk between us, the side hook of my spear latching onto it and throwing it aside with a shower of dirt and rocks. The next shot was a thrust, straight at the heart of the demon. Asriel, flowing with the breeze, floated around the point of my spear and to my flank.

            Then, the breeze became a gale, redirecting him into me. I couldn’t see the point of impact, but it was strong, launching me to my right. I rolled over, letting the friction between my segmented armor and the ground drain some of my speed, before I planted my legs down and ground to a stop. There I noticed that all that strength, force enough to send me flying, hadn’t been from a punch or shoulder check. His hand was open and flat, meaning that his strength had been dispersed over a wider area than normal. He was holding back, and he was still able to derail my stampede.

            “There’s a difference between not fighting and being an opponent’s pin cushion. Frisk taught me that.” His posture was relaxed again, ready to change and match whatever I threw at him. “Terry is on the verge of a panic attack, and John and Bill are a body of their own away from trying to pulverize you. I might be their host, but I can only hold them back for so long. This is the last time I can ask you. Lay down your arms and parley, or I will show you what we are capable of.” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears, but I couldn’t assume his tone was honest.

            “Chara is a threat to everyone I love. So long as they stand, no one will be safe. I’ll wade through seas of fire and tunnel through mountains of corpses if it means keeping this world from facing the Hell they bring again.” I pounded a fist against my chest plate, the banging of a defiant drum. My Determination was burning in my veins, and I could feel my body changing to its whims. My hair raised and hardened, standing on end as the raging currents of my power held it at full extension.

            "I am Undyne the Undying, and I will not bow to tyrants like you!” He sighed, closing his eyes.

            “Fine. I tried to warn you, truly I did.” His body was still, but his magic was on the move. It sped through him as fast as it could, the rapids breaking free of the binds of his flesh. First was on his back, splaying out into a curtain behind him. His legs were shrinking, merging together from the top down. His pants were bleeding into the air, strand by strand. It hit me what he was trying to do, the rainbow that filled the air summoning the story of Frisk’s final showdown. I broke into a sprint, intent on halting the transformation before it could finish.

            “It’s a beautiful night, don’t you think?” I threw my left spear at his head, directly between his eyes. It got but a hair’s width from hitting home when his arm sped by, side swiping it hard enough to make it shatter. The blue light of my disintegrating spear briefly illuminated his snow white gauntlet.

            “The river babbles softly, stars twinkle overhead. It’s enough to lull you to sleep.” I closed in to melee range, but before I could pierce his still soft torso, he grabbed me by the wrist. His arm, though metallic, looked slack, but his grip was stronger than gravity and held no matter how hard I struggled. I tried to punch him in the jaw, but his body had grown to such a size that it was out of reach. My next best bet was striking his chest, but all it got me was a bang similar to what came from my armor.

            “But no slumber comes to us tonight.” His head snapped down towards me, and his eyes opened, unveiling the infinite darkness behind his silvery pupils. “ **There is no rest for the dead.** ” His other hand locked around mine, and he hefted me up, leaving me to dangle in his grasp as he looked me in the eye.

            “ **They call you the Undying, she who fears not the touch of demise. As its envoy, we shall see how true this rings.** ” He lifted me higher yet before throwing me to the ground, leaving me implanted in the dirt. I tore my way up, but he was higher yet, floating into the sky.

            I had failed to stop the transformation. Above me, wreathed by the moon, was my people’s rune granted life, a false idol. Wings that lit the sky with the essence of his Soul. Mockeries of Souls engraved on his gauntlets and cuirass. Horns that held up the sky, a base spike that threatened to pierce to the heart of Earth. This was Asriel’s true form, the one who conquered death and brought its strength to bare in the realm of the living.

            But I was greater. Where he broke the shackles of the reaper, I was too strong to be claimed in the first place. Where he stole its power, I repelled it with my own. He was many disparate fragments weaved into an uneven whole, I was the one and only.

            “Bring it on, Hyper DORK!” His face steely, he raised his arms to the heavens, and the heavens answered. Its stars shined brighter at his command, and then they grew. I ducked as one whizzed by, burning a hole through the tree it collided with in my stead. I ducked and weaved through the barrage, swatting those that nearly hit me back at him with the one spear that remained. They plinked off his body with no effect, most of their initial energy drained by the time they reached him.

            The hail thinned, and I charged once more, one eye pointed up for a second wave. His arms came together, traces of stardust from the deflected bolts gathering in his hands and molding into a single, massive shot. He groaned with the exertion of flinging it forward, and it descended to the world with the sluggish mass of a fully armed battleship.

            The sheer amount of Determination flowing from this one attack was enough to blot out all else in my second sight. I stopped in place, transferring the physical energy into magical energy. It wormed into the ground, springing back up as a wall of spears.

            Asriel thrusted his palm forward, a blast of wind coming to his aid. It did little against my barrier, but his own attack was more willing to bend. Its trajectory altered, moving from a collision course with me to the space over my head. Suddenly, it shed its outer skin, the release tripling its speed. It rammed into the ground behind me, and before I could bring up another wall, it detonated.

            A hailstorm of fragmented stars flew from the wreckage, and I had no hope of blocking the onslaught. They tore through my armor like common cloth, each pin prick that signified a direct hit followed by a wave of agony as his malicious will spread through my veins. My limbs locked up, all of my magic redirecting to expel the invasive force. It only lasted a few seconds, but by the time the storm passed, I was left as a twitching, immobile mess. I had to hurry and do something, _anything_ , before he…

            “ **It seems your training was incomplete.** ” I couldn’t turn my head to look, but I heard my wall break, felt the shrapnel left behind by my spears pop against the skin exposed by those stars that hadn’t embedded themselves within my flesh. A hand wrapped around me, but, this time, it wasn’t any one part. It was large enough to fully encapsulate me from the neck down, pinning my arms and legs together. He turned me around, bringing me up to the level of his eyes once more. Each one was only marginally smaller than my whole body.

            “ **Do you see now the error of your judgment? Were I a less magnanimous foe, I would crush you now and be done with the matter.** ” He looked me over once more. “ **Though I would imagine most other opponents would have succumbed to your raw power. Had I not been blessed by the strength of those seven humans within me, you would have been the victor.** ” I was about to start screaming at him. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was a villain that monologued over the hero’s soon to be corpse. I was close to telling him to stop yammering and get it over with.

            Instead, I was released. He lowered me to the grown and set me down, placing me against the tree trunk to help me stand. Shocked, I looked up, only to see that he had shrunken back to a more natural size. His horns were shortening, and the sharp edges of his claws were rounding off.

            “ **Your abilities will be crucial in the days to come. You are too great an asset to lose to a mutual rush of ill planning and rage. And besides.** ” His spike split back into two legs as he shrank further, stopping at just over waist height. His clothes weaved back over him as the separated parts of his body congealed into a single mass. “ **I would never dream of killing such a de** ar friend again. That’s not who I am anymore.” His melancholy broke, and he smiled softly at me.

            “I’m sorry I had to do that, but you didn’t give me much choice. Here, I’ll get you some water, so take a seat there. I’ll help you clean those wounds while I explain.” He ran off to the riverside and kneeled, plucking the largest pieces of grass he could find to weave into a primitive cup.

            Maybe if it was a normal day, I would’ve listened to him. Maybe, if I hadn’t still been in excruciating pain and, I admit, shaken to the depths of my Soul by his true form, that night would have ended more smoothly and peacefully.

            But it wasn’t a normal day, and the Undyne in control then wasn’t my logical side. It was the warrior within, the berserker that nulled the weakness that came from both memory and the lack thereof. All she saw was pity from the enemy, a demon hiding in friendly skin. More than that, however, she saw that the demon had let its guard down.

            Determination boiled to the surface, filling the holes in my skin and solidifying. My legs righted themselves beneath me, and my right hand cracked into its proper place. I stood, and reeled back, one more spear forming in my hand. Its tip was serrated, a series of spikes that would grind whatever they touched away.

            “There’s a lot we’re still hiding, and I’m sorry for that. But I swear, I’ll tell you everything. No more sec…” His breath caught in his lungs. The woven grass he had been fiddling with fell from his hands. They rose to the center of his chest, lightly touching the mass of magisteel that had punched through it. Another followed, through the right side of his stomach. His shoulder. His waist. Another. Another. ANOTHER.

            He stood, legs trembling under him. He turned, looking up from his body to me. The look in his eyes, I’ll never forget that look. They were wide, pupils reduced to dots. The vibrancy of the Dreemurr family’s eyes had dimmed, magma cooling in the presence of open air. Dark circles ringed them. As he stood there, gasping for air, the look of betrayal was carved into his face. Warrior Undyne relented, and the true me stirred. I took a step forward, the implications of what I had just done falling on me with the weight of Mount Ebott.

            “Prince Asriel, I…!”

            “Un…dyne…?” He tried to grab the spear in his chest, but all his effort got him was cuts from the vicious edge. His breaths became quicker, shorter. “You… How could…?” He stumbled as his legs started to give out, swaying back and forth. “Cold… So cold… Remember, this feeling. It’s…” Tears leaked from his eyes, and horror overtook his eyes. He clutched at his heart. “Not… Again. I don’t want to…!”

            His ankle gave way one last time, and he tumbled backwards. The water parted around him, admitting him to its depths without so much as a splash. The last glimpse I had of him, the red in his eyes had fully faded, a dull, lifeless grey taking its place.

            I ran to the riverside as fast as my legs could carry me. It was too dark to see deeper than a few inches in. My heart was racing, and the voice of doubt from before I struck returned in full force.

            _‘How could you listen to some whacked out jester instead of your own ruler? You’re a Royal Guard! This is treason!’_ I didn’t know what to do. Even if I did find his body down there, I didn’t know how to treat wounds. I was trained to make them, not mend them! I dropped to my knees, the fire in my Soul extinguished.

            “Oh God, Asriel, what have I…?” Before the tears could start to flow, a bubble rose to the water’s surface and popped. Then another, and another. The pattern was inconsistent with any natural source. My first, grotesque thought was wrong, too, the pattern and duration inconsistent with the release of air from a drowning body.

            I stood up again, and the steady output of bubbles blew up into a rapid boil. The river’s path was shifted, trying to flow around the new disturbance, but it was sucked in against its will. I took a step back, and the river exploded, a column of water shooting into the sky. I looked into the water beneath the fountain, and my second sight fizzled out. I grabbed my left eye, the magic there overloading my senses and coming through as television static.

            “ _ASRIEL!!!_ ”

            My hands moved from my eye to my ear fins. The scream was like metal being ripped apart, the shrill shriek of styrofoam lodged into my brain.

            “ ** _ASRIEL!_** ” The second was deeper, closer to a savage roar, but the harsh ringing was no less painful for it. When the nausea and dizziness passed, I saw that the water was splitting, circling around a point in the center. When I looked, I found Asriel’s body. A wispy, scarlet figure was cradling it, and it threw aside the last spear it removed from him. It lifted Asriel higher, tucking its face into his chest.

            “ ** _NO, YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE ON ME!_** ” I tried to focus, but the image before me was making my mind buzz horribly. The air tasted of hatred.

            “ ** _YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD BE THERE FOR ME, SO LIVE UP T O Y O U R W O R D, D A M N I T !_** ” Asriel gasped, and the wispy figure’s ghastly eyes widened. It pulled him closer, hugging him tightly as though declaring that it would never let go. Its eyes trailed up, landing on me. And the water dyed red.

            “ ** _You, it WAS YOU!_** ” Its skin started to glow, breaking away like the top of a flame. The river shook with the force of an earthquake, its whole visible length coming to a boil, and the forest was cast in its malicious red light.

            “ ** _YOU, A GUARDIAN, TRIED TO TAKE THE ONE GOOD THING I HAVE IN THIS DAMNABLE WORLD!_** ” Steam billowed from the river, consuming the scene unfolding on its bed and blocking my fragile mind from its damaging effects. Its voice still boomed just as loudly, and its speech only grew more hateful.

            “ ** _THAT’S IT, SCREW MERCY! SCREW REDEMPTION! SCREW PEACE!_** ” The steam dispersed, but the lighting remained. From the wisps, a body emerged, slowly pacing towards me. I crouched into a defensive stance, but my form became too rigid when I saw the gleam of the knife in its hand. It reflected my image back at me, a statement of who it sought next.

            “And most of all, screw you.” The knife twisted, its picture turning into a vibrant red eye curtained by pale, brown hair. “Treacherous worm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, it's been entirely too long since I've written a death scene. Doesn't it just release all the pent up sadism? How many lists have I been added to for talking like this on the internet?


	26. Infernal Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All which burns, no matter how bright, will one day cool to ash.

            The river returned to normal, flowing as it should once more, and the woods no longer glowed red, but I didn’t feel any safer. Those blood red eyes were more than enough to make up for the lost ambiance. Chara flipped the knife over, holding it in an underhanded grip. I regained control of my body, righting my defensive stance.

            “So I was right, you were…” They flicked their off hand at me, a slim needle of fire grazing the left side of my head.

            They blurred where they stood, and I knew enough from previous matches with Frisk that standing still was a death sentence. I held a spear up in front of me, the blade of their knife slicing it in two. It slowed them enough, though, letting me avoid their second strike.

            “What’s wrong? I thought you loved taunting your opponents.” A third slash, I leaped up into the high branches of the nearest tree. They stared up at me from its base, their expression unreadable. It was almost tranquil, but its edge was every bit as sharp as their blade.

            “Opponent?” The bend in their brow deepened. “You’re just a mutt who sniffed me out and bit my hand. The law says to put you down.” Their knife went back, and at its farthest reach, it flashed. It only lasted a moment, but that moment was enough. I lunged from my tree to the next as they swung, a wide, but thin line of condensed fire cutting through my old perch’s trunk. It fell with a pained groan, and when it crashed to the ground, its base was still smoldering.

            “Hold still.” The time between attacks was shrinking, my footing becoming ever more unstable. As I leaped from branch to branch, I realized that I preferred their old tone. All the laughing and joking at my expense, though still terrifying, had an element of lightness that made it enjoyable from some far flung angles. The Chara after me now was cold, methodical. They were a demon before, but now they seemed like something else, something too distinctly detached to understand. Somehow, it was far worse.

            “If you're so offended that I hurt Asriel, _oof_ , then why are you with him at all? You knew that being around would put him in danger!” The attacks stopped, but I stayed on my toes in case it was a trap. Below, Chara’s eyes had darkened.

            “Asriel needed a seventh Soul to be himself. He needed to be himself to save all of you from the alternate iterations of me and reclaim his original form. I had a Soul to give. The rest should be self explanatory. Are you suggesting you would have rather I left you to your fates?” I stared at him incredulously. There was no way his motives could have been so generous. “Then do you believe I should have left after all was said and done, making Asgore, Toriel, and Frisk believe they were losing him a second time? Such cruel creatures this world creates.”

            “Like you’re one to talk!” What I was saying wasn’t really important. All that mattered at that moment was that it gave me time to recuperate my DT and prepare to meet them head on instead of running away. Giving them a piece of my mind at the same time was just a bonus. “How many times have you killed all of us for sick kicks? How many people go to sleep at night only to be woken up by nightmares born of the fear you created?”

            “You wouldn’t have had to come back to ‘save’ us if you hadn’t been such a twisted twerp that other yous had the idea of taking over our world. We wouldn’t have lost Asriel the first time if you hadn’t dragged him to the surface and gotten him killed. Alphys wouldn’t be so depressed and self loathing if you hadn’t half assed killing the Amalgamates and left them for her to experiment with!” I pointed a finger at them, my torrent of anger commanding my body in lieu of my brain.

            “We would be better off if you never existed!” They looked at me, eyes opened marginally wider, before letting their head dip. Their hair casted a shadow over their face. I was tempted to jump on them, take them by surprise, but then I saw that their clenched fists were trembling.

            “Is that how you truly feel?” I scoffed, answering them in no uncertain terms. “Then this could be worse than I thought. You were willing to slaughter Asriel, the foremost object of your protection, which would imply that Frisk’s life, too, is in jeopardy.”

            “Hold on, what does Frisk have to do with…?” The implication hit me like a crumbling mountainside. Did they know Chara was alive all along? They were as close as close could be, and I had heard of a number of times where they directly linked DT. How far did the deception go?

            “I have no choice. All who threaten those under my care will die, no exceptions.” They looked up, and their eyes were nothing but that horrible red, headlights shining upon me. My ear fins twitched in discomfort, the sound of cracking bones echoing in my head. They doubled over, each individual vertebra on their spine bulging through their sweater. The fabric near their shoulder blades was next, but whatever pushed there wasn’t stopping its ascent.

            I tipped forward, letting myself fall in front of the branch I sat on and pushing off from it. The magic in my ankles popped, launching me with the speed of a rocket towards them. I turned myself into a spin, topping my drill properly with a dual handed spear.

            I hit home, but my point of contact wasn’t as soft as I had hoped. Every rotation was accompanied by the shriek of grinding metal, and when I started to slow, I saw the silver glint of their knife in my path. I crushed the hilt of my spear, releasing its magic and letting the burst of energy carry me away.

            When I righted myself in the air, I saw that it wasn’t the same knife. Or maybe it was, but I was sure that it hadn’t been flying before. And there was only one real knife, but a cloud of them hovered above their head.

            Their muscles relaxed, letting them straighten out. Their real knife was still in their hands, but it was cloaked by… something. I couldn’t tell what it was. It was like a cloud of ink, or the sludge that drifted from Gaster’s mask when he got angry. My second sight was still fuzzy, so I couldn’t read it in any way besides physical, but I was having just as hard of a time at that as I was at reading Chara with my DT vision.

            It didn’t help that I had more to watch out for besides their knife. Their limbs had stretched and narrowed, their skin pulled taut over their unnaturally proportioned arms and legs and strangled into a paler hue. Their hair was longer, too, hiding all but the malevolent red spark of their eyes. Wings spread from their back: as dark as a moonless midnight, ripped like an ancient sail. Taken as a whole, they were similar in structure to Asriel, deific in presence, but the details painted them in a far less regal light.

            “ _Night falls on this hollowed world._ ” The water-like surface my scales floated on nearly froze as they spoke. Their voice was a frigid wind, quiet and raspy, the whisper of the breeze in an abandoned tomb.

            “ _The light of day has left us. Its warmth forgets our names._ ” With slow, gradual movements, they lifted their knife above their head. The cloud of razors heeded the command, all aligning themselves to mimic the original. I bent my knees, ready to dodge at a moment’s notice.

            “ _On a night like this, demons like us…_ ” They threw their arm down, and the knives followed. It caught me off guard, though, when none of them came to strike me down. They landed everywhere besides where I was, creating a ring around our battlefield. The blades hummed with their magic, and I knew that they weren’t aiming at me in the first place. “ _Should be burning in Hell._ ”

            They snapped their fingers, and the ground shattered. Their knives dropped into the ravines, and the world roared at the intrusion. Its wounds spread, linking up to one another, and the smell of sulfur wafted by.

            A flash of recognition and nostalgia. I made a break for the river, leaping over it in one bound. I landed, and the Earth trembled. A gust of scalding air blew by. Back at the other side of the river, the greenery had been overtaken by streams of fire and plumes of smoke, rising up from great pools of newly exposed lava. In the middle of it all, submerged up to the knees and covered in ash without the slightest discomfort, stood Chara. An annoyed snarl displayed their complement of fangs, each sharp enough to take the place of their knife should the need arise.

            “ _A swift tadpole. I should have expected it. No matter, you will burn._ ” A thought crossed their face. They looked up, and when I followed their line of sight, I found that they were looking to the moon. It was only a few degrees from being directly overhead. “ _Then, time is short. Perhaps you can flee that long._ ” They held out a hand, all five fingers straightened.

            “ _We’ve only five minutes until midnight. At that time, Frisk will Save, locking all events prior into our timeline. Should this go on too long, they would undoubtedly turn back the clock to spare you._ ” I set the timer in the back of my head. I was brash, but I wasn’t a fool. As Asriel had shown me before, even with all my training, I was no match for someone exerting the full power of that body, and that was assuming Chara hadn’t tucked away pockets of power for their ends alone. If my win condition was survival, then I could hold out.

            “Well, what are you waiting for, Beelze-brat? The timer’s running down.” They scoffed, and my fists clenched tighter.

            “ _It is only fair to let you savor your remaining moments, as, in spite of your transgressions, you were once a valuable asset. But, if you so insist, I can expedite your execution._ ” They threw their arms forward, and it was like a massive bubble had popped beneath the lava flow. A wave of molten rock rose above us both and advanced, swiftly falling over me.

            My perception of time slowed, and with the thick curtain of lava between us, my second sight was able to read the world once more, if only temporarily. I could see that they weren’t directly commanding the lava. They were only pushing it into action by using Determination as puppet strings. As Alphys had said, Determination was the strength to change the world, limited only to the will and knowledge of the wielder. There was no one, in our timeline or any other, with more willpower than me.

            And their sloppy showing of their cards had given me more than enough knowledge to work with.

            Copying their technique, I threw my arms up, hands open, mind focused entirely on the river between us. It only shook a little at first, but with one more dose of panic-driven DT, I managed to lift a small splash of water. It was only half a foot taller than me and a few inches wider on each side, but it was enough.

            I ducked behind it, and lava crashed down on the grass around me. It smoldered, burned away all plant life, but I was fine. The water rapidly cooled any lava it touched, creating a wall of igneous rock over which its liquid body flowed.

            “ _You learn quickly._ ” A sharp click. I jumped, clearing the lava field, just as my wall toppled. Chara, knife in hand, waded through the wreckage towards me. “ _But your imitation can only go so far. I have spent decades immersed in the art of Determination, hanging onto life only by my mastery. I will not be conquered by an apprentice._ ” One step came down harder than the last, and the light drained from where they touched. No, it was more than light, it was like reality vanished underfoot. Charred earth was replaced by flat, unmarked darkness, and it was spreading fast.

            I tried to retreat, putting all my speed into each step, but I wasn’t fast enough. It overtook me, then it went up. Walls of it extended overhead, reaching for each other. The bubble sealed, locking me in a realm of nothingness.

            “ _I am sure Frisk has told you of this space before._ ” Chara still advanced, their pace unwavering. “ _Those of sufficient strength can tear open holes in the fabric of the world, unveiling pockets hidden from the untrained. To be trapped in one with its master is tantamount to entering a new world, where they are lord. Frisk only survived by virtue of spirit, by matching the lord in terms of Determination and combat ability.”_ They blinked forward, covering a hundred feet in an instant.

            “ _But you have neither advantage._ ” I bolted to the side, throwing a spear in my wake to try to cover my trail. It did little good, shattering over their shoulder on contact. My heart dropped, my one tried and true attack utterly useless. “ _My turn._ ”

            They threw their knife, but it was as keen on breaking the laws of motion as its wielder. It warped from their hand to me, carrying the full force of a point blank stab. It sank into my shoulder, embedding itself in the pressure point just right of my neck. My arm went numb and slack. All I could do was run, but that proved as ineffective as fighting head on. They warped again, grabbing the knife and tearing it alongside a chunk of flesh. I felt my health bar depleting, over a third of it already gone.

            “ _I admit, among the denizens of this world, you are an impressive specimen. Given time, you could have been my equal, or possibly more._ ” They flicked their off hand, and a bolt of fire struck my left leg. I stumbled, and they let loose, each pass of their hand sending another ray of pure agony through my body. My senses were overloaded, my legs locking up from the pain. My arms only barely worked, and when I tried to use them to flee, I ended up back first against a wall, only able to look on as Chara closed in.

            “ _Your future could have been bright if you left well enough alone. But you didn’t. You brought Asriel to the brink of death, a cold he doesn’t deserve to endure._ ” They raised their knife, and the inky cloud around it spread. It solidified into a long pole, which they held with both hands, and a blade curled from the top. Their new scythe glowed the same red as their eyes, the only source of light in their personal abyss. “ _Welcome to Hell._ ”

            Their arms fell, and I flinched. With my eyes closed, all I felt was the icy cold of that space. Any moment, I knew it would tear into me, and I would be no more. One of the scales on my neck tingled, veins of cold tearing through it, but it didn’t advance far, and the effect remained quarantined to that one spot. I opened my eyes.

            The point of the scythe was pressed against my throat, a wisp of its magic rubbing against my hide. The blade was still, but the handle wasn’t. It jittered back and forth, as though two forces of near equal strength were pushing it in opposite directions. Following it up, seeing no other hands but Chara’s own, I was shocked. They were hesitating, but why? Their face was wide eyed, a crack in the ice.

            When they noticed me watching, the lifted it back up and swung it down with all their might, their shoulder rolling into the shot. I fought my instinct to flinch again, watching as it, once more, paused midair, halted by no force but Chara’s own hand. Their lips pulled back, anger burning to the surface.

            “ _Come on, I’ve done_ this countless times before. Just press forward and…” Their arms tensed, exerting twice as much force, but again it was cut in two, pushing against itself. A growl escaped them, and they grabbed me by the throat, their fingers twitching in frustration. No, it was that same phenomenon again. They were trying to strangle me, but something was holding them back. Their arm tensed, and they lifted me up and back.

            “Damnit, what’s going on!?” They threw me against the wall, and it gave way, cracking like glass as I flew through. The landing dazed me, face first into moist river soil, but I managed to turn around, holding myself up on my elbows when my knees failed me. The hole in the dome was expanding, the cracks progressing as the panes fell to dust. Chara marched through, their wings fully extended and every fang in their mouth exposed. Their pupils were gone, vanished into the red sclera.

            “DIE, DAMNIT!” They swung again, but their aim was high. A wave of heat passed overhead, and I heard at least five trees fall. “DIE!” They brought the scythe straight down, but it missed, lodging into the ground two inches in front of me. They tried to rip it out, but the dirt had melted around it, hardening into a sheathe that locked around its ridged edge.

            “ **DIE!** ” They lunged forward, and their jaw snapped loose. Flame bursted from their maw, bathing everything in their sight. Grass turned to dust, water skipped boiling and turned to steam, and dirt bubbled like molten steel. But I was unharmed, touched only by residual heat. Their jaw closed, making the fire escape from elsewhere. Their wings and hair were wreathed in it, and when they bolted forward, grabbing me by the collar, it blazed out behind them.

            “ ** _WHY CAN'T I KILL YOU!?_** ” Delirious, and not a little cocky, I all but spat in their face.

            “Maybe that brother of yours softened you.” Their grip tightened, the metal of my armor creaking as it compacted at their touch, but a sharp click rang out above it from behind me.

            “Let her go!” My blood ran cold, and my head whipped around. Alphys stood there, her MTT shirt drenched in sweat, her lungs heaving with the immense effort of breathing, her fingers shaking on the trigger of a blaster. It wasn’t a pocket pistol, either. It looked like she had ripped the laser mechanism out of the mouth of her dragon robot and hurriedly welded a trigger and handle to it. In total, it was bigger than Greater Dog and weighed about as much, but her aim was set between Chara’s eyes. It was a direct threat, and I didn’t know if the immunity I had would help her, too.

            “Alph, run! They’re too strong for…!”

            “Heh…” I hit the ground, dropped from Chara’s grasp. They looked down, between me and their feet. The fire on their back was dying down, and they chuckled under their breath. “So, this is what you meant?” They weren’t talking to either of us, their eyes staring beyond the binds of our reality. Their laughter grew, and they threw themself back, laughing hollowly to the heavens.

            “Hah, hah, hah, you win. You actually did it. I can’t bring myself to…”

            “Back off, slowly.” Her lungs were audibly shaking, but she still managed to sound almost confident. Chara looked at her, the evil glow in their eyes dimming until they seemed... normal. They grabbed their scythe in a loose hand, and they crushed it. The magical construct evaporated, leaving the knife we all knew and feared behind. They flapped their wings once, lifting over me and touching down an arm’s length from Alphys. She panicked, pointing the barrel at them point blank, but they didn’t react.

            “Congratulations, Alphys. You win.” They tossed their blade down, letting it clatter at Alphys’s feet. “You’ve slain the big bad demon once and for all. I bet you had your money on your brother finishing the job, huh?”

            At her wit’s end, she pulled the trigger. Her cannon erupted with the might of dragon’s breath, but Chara was already gone. With no stopper in place, the blue blast rocketed into the deep woods. Everything in its path, from trees to rocky spires, collapsed into dust, and when it touched down, a column of displaced dirt and smoke blew into the night sky. The attack died out, a shellshocked Alphys looking on at the destruction she had reaped.

            “Don’t worry, there wasn’t any wildlife in the way.” Chara had escaped to the far side of the river, sitting up in one of the few trees miraculously untouched by our warring. “It all ran off when Asriel did his thing. Some would call woodland creatures dumb, but they know when they’re outmatched. No squirrel would ever fight a wolf.” Alphys dropped her big blaster, a glance showing that it was out of power. She replaced it with a cell phone, a finger hovering over the 'S' key.

            “You can put that away. I just said you won, didn’t I? Besides.” They pointed at the screen, 11:59 rolling over to 12. Midnight had come. “Killing you wouldn’t stick now. Frisk just Saved, and they won’t be doing it again for a long while.”

            “Why should we trust you?” Alphys’s claws were shaking, lightly scratching the paint off her keypad. “You’re not connected to them anymore, so how would you know what they’re planning?” A weak, tensionless arm landed on her foot. She looked down at me, wincing at either how injured I was or my Undying state. Probably both.

            “Frisk knows.” She stared at me for a moment before it sank in, and her jaw dropped.

            “B-b-but, they wouldn’t… They know better than anyone how…”

            “Yeah, they do.” My eye trailed over to Chara. They looked down at me with heavily curtained regret. “Them and Asriel both.” The incredulity in her expression was swelling by the sentence. The woods rustled, and I heard shouting in the distance.

            “I hear them, they are over here!” I recognized Toriel’s voice from a mile away.

            “HURRY, WE CANNOT LEAVE UNDYNE TO FEND THEM OFF ALONE!” And there was Papyrus. I didn't know if I should be relieved or frightened. The extra scale tipping in our favor was nice, but with so many people chomping at the bit to fight Chara off, I wasn’t sure how many answers I could get out of them, and if Asriel and Frisk’s involvement was revealed, it would tear the heart out of monster society as we knew it.

            “I want to make a deal.” Chara stared towards the noise, tracking the newcomers. Alphys blurted out a response before I could process what was happening.

            “Why would we make a deal with you?”

            “Because what’s coming next is worse than anyone could imagine. A new threat has its eyes on your world, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it alone. Even with Sans and Frisk helping us, we could only delay it.” Realization flared in my mind, a memory returning from days ago.

            _‘better be careful about putting something important out here, or it might start boiling.’_ Was this what Sans was talking about? Was this what he had been training me for?

            “Okay.” I put an arm up, and Alphys grabbed it, hauling it up and over her shoulder. “Let’s say we believe you. How bad is this new threat?”

            “You all call me a demon, right? If that's the case…” They turned back to us, and their eyes were the most frightening thing I had seen all day. When terror struck a known murderer, something was wrong. “…Then Hedon is the devil himself.” My heart clenched painfully, and my mouth went dry. I looked at Alphys, and she was just as shaken.

            “Fine, what do you want?" They smiled, a little of their fear abating.

            “Come to Sans’s lab at five P.M. tomorrow and I’ll tell you everything, about me and what we’ve been up to behind everyone’s backs. In exchange, I need you to help put on a show for your friends here.”

            “What sort of show?” They smirked.

            “Just forget that I’m in Asriel’s body and act like you really want to kill me.” I grinned back.

            “That’s barely acting!” They nodded, pulling themself up to their feet. Their teeth and nails sharpened once more, and they grabbed their right wrist. With a twist of the arm, a deep gash was torn in their flesh. Blood flowed from it in streams, and they hunched over like they were exhausted. Just as they put on the mask, Papyrus bursted into the clearing. He was riding his blaster, his manic worry contrasting with its emotionless calm.

            “UNDYNE, THE CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED!” He stopped when he saw me, and I remembered that I was still in Undying mode. “OH NO, WE ARE TOO LATE!”

            “chill, bro. i told you i was training her, didn’t i?” Sans walked into view next, as nonchalant as ever.

            “OH, SO NOW…?”

            “yep, near total control.” Papyrus’s awed grin was even wider than usual, but he tempered it when he remembered why he was there in the first place.

            “I WILL GUSH ABOUT HOW AMAZING THAT IS LATER." Asgore surfaced next, trident in hand.

            “Undyne, we are here!” Good God! His hair was all spiked and glowing, and his lip fangs were longer and sharper. Is this what he looked like when he was pissed? Toriel was right behind him, and her robes were on. Freaking. Fire. Why was fire such a popular motif?

            “Chara, you shall not take another Soul from us!” She took in the situation in one pass. Their knife on the ground next to me and Alphys. The deep gash in their wrist. The several smoking craters and trees reduced to ash.

            “Oh please, you say that like you can stop me.” As much as I preferred it to their cold, detached approach, that sleazy, egocentric tone made me feel dirty whenever I heard it. They acted like they were struggling, snapping their spine back into alignment. They smirked, raising their wounded hand and letting fire cloak it.

            Papyrus registered it as an incoming attack, and his blaster reacted. It let loose with a beam of orange. It was smaller than Sans’s, trust me, I knew, but it was still effective. Chara jumped over it, their wings carrying them high into the air, but the King and Queen’s fireballs flew just as high. They were forced to duck and weave to avoid the nigh-omnipresent projectiles.

            “hey, how’s it going?” In the confusion, Sans had slipped up beside us. Alphys glanced between us nervously, and I fixed my most harsh death glare on him. “you know, don’t you?” I gave him a curt nod. He shrugged. “couldn’t keep quiet forever, i guess. we’ll gab about it later, ‘kay?” He was lucky I could barely hear anything over the hellfire, or I would’ve wrung every drop of truth out of him with my bare hands.

            “Surely this isn’t all you have?” Chara drifted lazily on their back, barely avoiding every fireball that came close. Asgore huffed indignantly, and he let his displeasure be known with a cavern-collapsing howl. A stream of flame tore through the sky, and Chara watched it with idle amusement. “Hm, a little better.” They flipped around, striking with their wing and sending a wave of displaced air downwards. It collided with Asgore’s beam breath, releasing enough energy from it to make a wider cloud of flame. It dispersed, and Chara was nowhere to be seen.

            “But still not enough.” Papyrus whipped around and found Chara sitting on the rear of his blaster. One leg was up, giving support to the arm they cupped their cheek with. The other arm and leg hanged off the edge, swaying back and forth. “The guardswoman came close, but I’m afraid none of you have what it takes to hold my attention any further.” Papyrus tried to grab them, for what good that would do, but they simply pushed off the ride, going from dead drop to an aimless walk once they hit the ground.

            “Then perhaps you should leave.” Toriel held her ready stance, her eyes monitoring everything in her line of sight at once. “Our world has enough troubles without invaders from alternate timelines.” Chara suddenly reclaimed their energy, throwing a wicked grin her way.

            “Oh, I’m no half-baked conquistador, _mother dearest!_ ” They bolted between her and Asgore, trusting that the crossfire potential made it a momentary safe zone. “I’m _your_ little nightmare, so don’t go pawning off responsibility to some other Toriel.” Asgore struck down with his trident, but they grabbed it by the middle spike and snapped the head clean off. They shattered it between their hands and blew, creating a blinding cloud that gave them an opening to retreat. They took to the air again, flying above the river.

            “I am the true Chara, your killer, your demon, and I…!” They pointed down with all the flare of a primetime gameshow host. “…Have a deal to strike!” They grinned widely, wearing their devil-may-care attitude openly. “And don’t go denying me too quickly, because if you win, you have my guarantee that this is the last that any of you have to worry about little old me!” Everyone shared a look, and when they looked at me, I did my best to mirror their trepidation and curiosity. Asgore stepped forward, carrying himself as the immovable King.

            “And what, pray tell, would this game consist of?”

            “No need to be so stiff about it, _father_ , it’s quite simple.” They threw one leg over the other, reclining in the air. “You see, there are a number of beings like myself out there, those that would seek to exploit your world for their gain. I may be finished with you all, but I would sooner die than let some half-minded faker take my place as your terror. In the spirit of keeping my property, at least in spirit, these are the conditions I set forth.”

            “In the near future, you shall find yourselves threatened by a fellow demon, one that calls himself Hedon. Kill him, and I shall leave this world to its own devices, no fine print, no strings attach. Fail, and fall under the subjugation of one just as cursed as myself.” Asgore didn’t respond, too busy looking them over for any clear signs of deception. Chara shrugged at the hesitation.

            “You need not answer right now. Your actions in the days to come will make your decision clear.” They mockingly saluted with two fingers, snickering under their breath. “I look forward to the show, my most beloved playthings. Do give my best to Asriel and Frisk.” Sans blinked away, popping into existence at the river’s edge atop a blaster of his own.

            “oh no, you don’t get to dash on us now. i didn’t get a shot yet.” The blaster’s jaw was pushed open by its interior pressure, the cerulean light of a well charged attack overwriting the dark of night. Chara smirked and stopped flapping their wings, dropping into the water below. Sans reoriented his aim and fired, lighting up the river with the strongest blast he could manage at short notice. All it earned him was a plume of steam.

            “Not my fault that you’re such a lazybones. You’ll have to save that aggression for Hedon, and trust me, you’re going to need it.” Their last piece said, Chara went silent, and the weight of their presence lifted from my shoulders.

            “UM.” Papyrus scratched his head, and he followed it up by summarizing everyone’s thoughts on the abrupt anticlimax. “WHAT JUST HAPPENED?” Toriel sheathed her flames, taking a moment to expel the last of her battle ready magics.

            “I believe they call it an ultimatum. Either we vanquish this Hedon they spoke of or be vanquished in turn.” Asgore stowed his broken trident pole in his cape.

            “For now, we should take stock of damages from tonight’s conflict. First and foremost, we should see to Undyne’s health.” I shook off the dizziness that had started settling into my head and gave them a confident grin, letting my body return itself to its base form.

            “Naw, take your time, I’ll be fine! I’ve got the best doctor in town right here!” I grabbed Alphys by the shoulder and pulled her into a sideways hug. I’m sure they could all call my bluff, but they also recognized that I wanted a moment alone with Alphys, if not why.

                        “IN THAT CASE, LET’S MAKE A TALLY OF HOW MANY SAPLINGS WE NEED TO REPLANT. NATURE IS OUR RESPONSIBILITY, AFTER ALL! NYEH HEH HEH!!!” With that enthusiastic send off, everyone got to work, marking the collateral of my fight with Chara. Though calling it a fight is generous. They had me on the ropes the whole time, even with all my training. I was using Determination, just like them, so why couldn’t I…?

            “Um, Undyne? Are you alright?” Alphys was doing as much of a preliminary examination as she could manage while I was in full body armor. “I know Sans said you’ve been doing this for a while, but I still…” I tightened my hold on her.

            “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m just nursing a bruised ego is all.” She nodded, wisely not putting too much pressure on that point yet. It was still too raw. “Listen, I know you’re probably upset I didn’t tell you about this before. I know you have some bad memories about me transforming like that, though, and I didn’t want you to worry or relapse or something.” She smiled warmly at me, rubbing that one spot in the crook of my upper back that she knew helped calm me down.

            “It's okay. I mean, I wasn’t exactly open and honest before, so I shouldn’t judge you too harshly. I know how easy it is to lie sometimes.” I gulped, knowing that I was about to make things much more uncomfortable.

            “Yeah, so from now on, no more secrets between us. When we get home, assuming I don’t pass out, we’re telling each other everything.” She caught the intentional wording. It was a two way street this time. “Terry told me about the memories.” I could feel her hands go cold and clammy, and I cursed myself. It needed to come to light, for both of our sakes, but I didn’t feel any better about pushing her like that.I pulled her away from her examination and onto my lap, and I hugged her as sincerely and fully as I could with mostly broken arms.

            “I know you had your reasons, and you know I had mine. Whatever comes out tonight, even if I’m mad at first, I want you to know that I love you. Nothing will ever change that, I swear. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and even pissed off me knows that I can’t go too long without you.” She sniffled, and she nuzzled into my hug. I took that time to imprint the one thing I knew for certain into my mind before my less understanding side got a chance to act.

            I loved Alphys more than anything. I would die for her, as I had many times before. No matter what the future held, I wanted to face it with her by my side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's a small bit of kind of detrimental news for you all (and it's not the Net Neutrality thing, for once. I'm sure that'll sort itself out soon enough, whether it be from the Judicial system or angry Anons going hack crazy.) My computer, as some of you may know, is essentially a cardboard box powered by a hamster on a wheel. It's old and rickety and bound to fall apart sooner rather than later.
> 
> Well, the hamster must've passed out or something, because this rig refused to start up for a whole day a few days ago. It just sputtered and died. I was about to call quits when I awoke to it miraculously starting up again. I have access to it now, but I don't know how long that rodent will stay awake this time, or if the next time it passes out I'll have to bury it. That's a small problem since, one, I post from this thing and, two, all of my writing files are on here. I can salvage the files if push comes to shove, but I'm in no place to go out and nab another computer.
> 
> So, if I spontaneously vanish from the internet soon, that's why. I'm not one to leave the people following me hanging, though, so if I get cast into the dark ages by a faulty motherboard again, I recommend you all go read Black Star on this very site. It's one of the best Persona 5 stories I've read, and I've read a metric ton. Well, Scarlet is neck and neck with it, but Black Star is complete, so it wins by default.
> 
> Long story short, my computer is rebelling. Judgment Day is nigh.


	27. Metamorphosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something something, important sounding cocoon metaphor.

            The crunch of grass was the only sound for miles. No one wanted to break the silence and pop the bubble of tension that had ballooned out of our control. I couldn’t feel anything from Chara’s Soul, as though it was under emotional lockdown. And yet they moved, step by step towards Ebott.

            “Psst, guys, over here.” I looked down, breaking away from the bleak, empty real world and into the Soulscape within. The colors were a bit muted, and there was a cold tinge to the air. A bright green speck stood out from the rest, Terry waving us towards her Soul. John was the first to reach her, and I saw their mouths moving, though I couldn’t hear their conversation. It didn’t take long, and he slipped into her Soul.

            Everyone was cautious about entering the one private space our most furtive member had, but she never raised an objection, so they followed John’s lead. I was the last one in line, and I gave her a questioning glance.

            “Terry, what’s…?” She cut me off with a finger to my lips before nudging me towards the others. I remembered how muted everything on the outside was when I was in Chara’s. Maybe it worked the other way around, too. Did she have something to tell us without Chara hearing?

            I slipped in with the rest, and she was right behind me. The outermost layer of the Soul glowed briefly, solidifying with us inside. It was more colorful than Chara’s, but that was most likely because the others were all adding their own respective pigmentation to the scenery. My focus shattered when Terry rushed to the center with a wild look in her eyes.

            “Did, did anyone else _see_ that!?” John reached out to her, but he relented, settling with a hand on her shoulder. Constricting someone so wound up was a bad idea.

            “How could we not?” Bill was sitting with his legs crossed. Sherri was in his lap, and he held her close. I almost forgot that this was their first time seeing Chara go all out from the inside, and it looked like it was hitting her pretty hard. Her hair was frazzled, eyes slammed shut. I’d bet Bill was only holding up so well because he wanted to give her the illusion that he was in control. “They always said this and that about being a demon, but damn. I didn’t think they were that serious.”

            “No, no, not that, the other thing!” She gestured to the outside, towards the red light just beyond the walls. “Didn’t any of you see their Soul change?” My ears perked. I put on the most implacable, stoic face I could.

            “Slow down and tell us exactly what you saw.” She breathed deeply, but instead of exhaling, she used that breath to start speaking.

            “When they were about to kill her, I looked away. I didn't know if I could take seeing another of her kind…” She shook her head, realizing that she was getting off topic. “When they froze up, their Soul, like, _changed_. It’s hard to explain, but…” She moved her hands like she was drawing it in front of her, figuring out how to put it into words.

            “You know how it’s usually all dusty and ragged, right?” I nodded, its broken appearance engraved in my mind’s eye. “Well, for that one moment, it wasn’t. It was clean and spotless, and the color was different. It was still red, but not their red. It was…” She pointed at me. “It was more like your eyes.”

            I looked at Chara’s Soul, and my brows furrowed. Now that I thought about it, it looked a little less dirty, though it was hard to tell from the far side of the green veil. The shade was even harder to comment on, but it didn’t look different. Whatever Terry saw must have been a temporary change, but it left behind a smaller permanent effect. My only experience with Souls changing in base nature was with Frisk, but theirs always snapped back to normal when they cooled off. As reluctant as I was to admit it…

            “…I don’t know enough to explain this.” Now that she was in the loop, maybe Alphys could help us figure it out. Where I knew Souls on the emotional side, she knew them on the scientific. It would take some convincing, but…

            _‘I’m curious about that myself.’_ Everyone was caught off guard by Chara’s sudden interjection. Sherri and Terry visibly cringed. _‘Oh, did you think I couldn’t hear you in there?’_ Terry was sweating nervously.

            “Uh, well…”

            “Yes, that’s exactly what we hoped." John completed his arm’s slow journey to wrap around her shoulders, holding her up.

            _‘Sorry. If it’s any consolation, it would’ve worked on anyone else, but I’ve been just a Soul for so long that it’s hard for one to hide stuff from me anymore.’_ Now that the surprise had run its course, I could hear that they were downright exhausted. Their voice was hollow, a match for their Soul. And there was something else, too, some overall feeling of wrongness to the way they were talking, but I couldn’t pin exactly what.

            “I-It’s okay, though. Really, I shouldn’t have tried sneaking this behind you, so…”

            _‘Don’t apologize, Terry. I deserve whatever scorn you give me after that display. I almost brought your nightmare back to life.’_

            “But you didn’t!” Before I could even form the words, she stole them from my mouth. The next part, though, was all me.

            “Do you think we can’t tell that you were acting at the end there?” I smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re a lot of things, but you’re sure as heck not as good of a faker as me. For the first time in your life, you had to falsify ill will, and I’m proud of you for it.” Their Soul pulsed, and a sniffle followed.

            _‘I…’_

            “But you still screwed up, man.” John whipped around, stunned by Bill speaking out against them in his place. “You might’ve gotten a truce outta her, but Undyne’s gonna be pissed the next time you see her. Workin’ out terms is almost impossible with that kind of bad blood, and you locked us into working some out while she’s still aching.”

            _‘That’s why I’m going home and telling Frisk everything. If anyone can calm her down, it’s either them or Alphys, and of the two, my chances are best with the one that doesn’t hate me.’_

            “Solid plan.” Sherri was still shaking like a leaf, but one of her eyes was open, that thoughtful gleam on full display. “This could align all of the Determination users at our disposal directly against Hedon, and the groundwork is set for everyone else to take up arms as well. But there is still one variable unaccounted for.” All attention turned to her. She straightened herself out, fully opening both eyes.

            “We’re still shaken. Reparations are in order.” At first, I was tempted to wave it off as an attempt at a joke, but the look in her eyes was dead serious. “This event threatens to drive a wedge between the Souls in the matrix. If a connection is severed, it could decrease our effectiveness in direct confrontations by blocking the flow of Determination. I suggest repairing the bonds now, before instability sets in.” It made as much sense as anything else. I had already been cut off once, and I only came back together a few hours ago. I had no intentions of going through that again, and I knew Chara well enough to say they were in the same boat.

            _‘I’d love to set things right, but you all know as well as I that I don’t have anything to give you. I gave my only possession to Alphys, not that you would want it, and I feel any assurances I give now would ring hollow.’_ An idea hit me like lightning, and its roots grew deeper as I built on it.

            “You could give them each a personal favor, like we did when we were kids. You’re poor, but your work ethic can be frightening when you have the right incentives. Offer them each a chance to put it towards whatever they want, no questions asked.” I turned to them, giving a salesman’s wink. “And I’ll make sure they hold up to their word.”

            The idea ran its course through the crowd. It was hard to pin exact feelings for most of them, but it seemed to be a net positive reaction. I chose to keep it that way by not mentioning how an abundance of favors I owed played a part in my cooperation with their original human eradication plan.

            “You are certain about this?” Lily was the first and only one to raise an objection, which was odd considering she was one of the people they had most directly wronged. “Our history may not be clean, but such an opening, so to speak, is inviting trouble.”

            _‘I’m aware, but after all I’ve done, I have little right to complain. Let the hammer of karma fall as it may.’_ Once it was all but confirmed, John got a nasty gleam in his eye. His grin reminded me too much of the Grinch.

            “We’re holding you to that.” Even his voice had that malicious tinge to it. I felt Chara’s mouth going dry.

            _‘I wouldn’t have it any other way, regrettably. Just hold onto it until after our current situation is dealt with. Whatever compromising act you have waiting for me would give our enemy too great a target.’_ The wickedness toned down some, but his satisfaction was no lesser for it.

            “Fair enough.” Getting past how unnatural it was for them to so willingly take their medicine, so to speak, I finally figured out what had been bugging me. It sounded like we were talking to a less mature version of Gaster or Doctor Pauly, not the sibling I had grown up with.

            “Hey, why are you talking so stiffly? It’s not like you to be so… eloquent.” They cocked their head to the side, and I heard echoes of their last few sentences being processed.

            _‘Hm, you’re right. Guilt alone should only change my tone of voice, not my choice of words, not this drastically at any rate.’_

            “Could be your head's way of coping.” Bill had stopped rocking, a pensive, focused air overtaking him. “When people hit rock bottom, with their body or your brain, they start turning off the parts of them that they don’t need so they can put that energy towards fixing up the damage.” Sherri nodded, rubbing his arm.

            “Wow, you actually remembered what I taught you!” Bill fluffed up her hair in turn.

            “You see something enough, it starts sticking, even with people as thick as me.” My mind unwittingly flashed back to his memories, to that skeleton of a kid left to waste away in the back alley of a city that had forgotten him. Bill grabbed the projection of his bandanna and held it to his heart.

            “You were there just before I died, right? Remember how the last two things I did were make sure the fire kid was safe and flip off the turtle that made it all happen? That was me without all the bells and whistles. I help people that can’t help themselves, and I tell off authorities that have their heads too far up their asses to do it instead. Death made the real me show his face, and now that your whole worldview is busted up, you’re showing yours.”

            _‘So this is what I’m truly like.’_ Their voice portrayed no evidence of their feelings, for better or for worse.

            “What do you feel like?” They looked up at the sky, tracing any stars that were in a vague line.

            _‘It’s… cold. Quiet. As though someone has sucked the color from my world and left me with its remains.’_ My throat swelled around the lump that had formed inside. A husk that wandered aimlessly about the living was a sad thing. _‘That said, I can feel something deep down. Not metaphorically. It’s warm, but I don’t know what it is. Right…’_ They touched the left side of their chest, and a streak of hope shined in my heart.

            “You’re right, there is something there. I think I formed around it when you helped bring me back, and I think it wants to return the favor. Go ahead, pull it out.” They stopped, curious what I had held so literally close to heart. Their hand sank down, shirt and flesh both parting like water. Eventually, they met something that wouldn’t yield to their command, and they took it into their grasp. It was as warm to the touch as it had been encased, and the night air did nothing to drain its heat. They pulled it free, and exposed it to the dull light of the moon.

            In the palm of their hand was a golden heart. It bore no intricate detail, only three words scratched roughly into its surface: best friends forever. Their breath caught in their lungs, and they brought their other hand up to rub at the chain that hang from the indent at the top of the pendant. They twisted the small knob at the top, and its locks came undone with a soft click.

            The front swung open without a sound, and staring back at them was a photo. Two faces, young, untroubled, beaming into the camera. It had been a poor camera, though, unable to render the minute difference in shade of our irises. As a result, it was like our eyes were one and the same, neither pair brighter or darker than the other.

            “The world might’ve moved on and forgotten, but as far as I’m concerned…” Their hands were shaking, and their Soul was beating with the rhythmic pattern of the organ it emulated. “…You’re no less of a Dreemurr now than you had been there. I’ve told you that enough, and that’s why you were able to feel it. Without everything else blocking your senses, you felt the locket as it should be. Maybe you’ve lost what you were before, but I say you’re better off. I don’t know what it was like before we met, but if it was really as cold and lonely as you make it sound, then it’s a past best left behind.”

            They had steadied their grip in reverence, but the flood of emotions found another way out. Dark trenches wormed their way through the fur on their face, and yet they smiled. They closed the locket tight and turned their head to the chain. It slipped over their head smoothly, and when they let fall, it settled in place on the left side of their chest without so much as a bounce. It was as though it was where it was meant to be.

            _‘Damnit, Asriel, stop making me cry like this. You know salt water messes up your fur.’_ Now that was the Chara I knew and loved.

            “Bah, I can grow more. Besides, I hear shaving makes it grow in thicker next time.” Chara giggled into their arm.

            _‘You’re still jealous of your old man’s beard?’_

            “It’s a great beard and you know it!”

            “I hate to interrupt, but we have places to be, do we not?” Reluctantly, I agreed with Lily. The sooner we got Frisk to overwrite that Save, just incase, the better.

            _‘I’ll handle the walking. You guys can get back to your talk. I won’t eavesdrop this time, promise.’_ The road underfoot started moving again, but their attention was elsewhere. The slight blueish hue on the bark and leaves. The subtle rustling of leaves. The guiding warmth that spread out from their chest. The light clinking of a golden chain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double dose of sorry here. This one was a bit rushed for Christmas, so let me know if you see any glaring issues, and there won't be a chapter next week for the same reason. I feel like I'm apologizing a lot these days. Is it just me?
> 
> Merry Jingle Days, guys! Good cheer for all, and to all, a good night! I mean, I think it's close to night, but I'm not sure. My face has been buried in Pokémon Ultra Sun too long to tell. (Go team Popplio!)


	28. Chessmaster's Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many of a mastermind's ploys can one take before biting their fingers off?

            You stared out the window of your room, listening as the last notes of Mettaton’s music filtered through the streets. The artist himself followed it, saying something or other to his dear fans, but you couldn’t focus on it long enough to tell what. When the speakers fell silent for the first time in two days, when your arms and legs felt ready to collapse under you, your mind still buzzed uneasily. There was something in the air, something horrid, sickening, but the details eluded you. Fortunately, you weren’t left to seek them on your own.

            _‘Frisk, it’s as you feared. There’s been a fight, ten miles into the woods. Determination was involved, three large sources.’_ You kept your expression passive for the off chance that someone walked by and saw you, but you were anything but calm.

            _‘Can you tell whose it was?’_

_‘I could only identify Sans and Undyne. The third source was new, but…’_ Your brow dipped. It was unusual for Gaster to fumble his words. _‘It carried a number of signatures unique to Chara. Whether that means it was them or someone akin to them, I can’t say.’_ Your fingers curled nervously, reaching for any means to offload the stress running rampant through your bones. _'I can at least confirm that it was not Hedon. His signature is too unique to mistake for anything else.’_

_‘Small blessings, I guess.’_ Part of you thought it was the illusive Lore Keeper. It was only when he entered the picture that things picked up on that front again, so it wasn’t a stretch to say that it was him pushing the boulder that he set rolling. The only sign you had saying otherwise was that he hadn’t fought you. You didn’t know if his prowess with Determination extended to combat.

            That was becoming a shrill anthem. You didn’t know. You didn’t know there were more beings like Chara. You didn’t know Chara was still capable of killing. You didn’t know when or where you were being watched by individuals that could pass as gods or demons both.

            You didn’t know, and it was driving you mad. A chorus of mockingbirds shrieking in your ears.

            _‘You shouldn’t be working yourself up so much, especially not on a school night.’_

_‘I know, but…’_ You closed your eyes, realizing what path you were treading down again. It had become second nature to seek out and handle every perceived threat personally even now that you had been thoroughly told off by two of the smartest people you knew.

            At least you knew that much: that you had people looking out for you.

            _‘I’ll have to trust that everyone made it out alright.’_ Your hand went to your bedside table, searching blindly for your phone. Sans had been present for the fight, and he could tell you whether you needed to act or not. If he didn’t answer, you would try Undyne. If neither answered, it would be all you needed to hear.

            The door clicked behind you, and your hearing sharpened. You caught the light clicking of claws on wood and the squeak of minor pressure on the floorboards. You turned around, locking eyes with them as the door opened.

            “Oh, you’re still up.” Chara didn’t bother hiding their voice. You were alone and their walls were down, and with that full access you found the worn undercurrent to their speaking. There were bags under their eyes, and their fur was slack. They knew what your examining gaze had found, and they made no effort to excuse it.

            “You fought Sans and Undyne.” They nodded.

            “Mostly Undyne. Sans’s was a token effort. Toriel, Asgore, Papyrus, and Alphys were there, too.” There was a dejectedness in their explanation, but full-bodied guilt was minimal. “No, I didn’t kill or permanently injure anyone, and Toriel, Asgore, and Papyrus don’t know I’m connected to Asriel.” They stumbled towards their bed, their clothes warping into a set of green pajamas.

            “And the other two?” They flopped backwards on the bed, hands going up over their eyes.”

            “The fish found me out. I don’t know how, but she knew I was in here and hunted me down. Alphys figured it out from the wording in a deal we made.” Deal? No, that part could wait a moment.

            “You’re saying you didn’t start it, right?”

            “Right, but I sure as Hell tried to finish it.” Their arms went lax, spreading out over the sheets. Their eyes were tired but at peace, the prosecuted standing before the court. “I went full demon out there, Frisk. Firestorms, the knife halo, the black room trick, everything and then some.”

            “But you didn’t kill her?” They swung an arm up, somewhat like a headsman bring down an axe, but it froze halfway through the downswing.

            “I almost did. Just one more hit, one more and it would’ve been over. But… I couldn’t.” Both hands opened in front of them, and they looked at them as though they were someone else’s. “As hard as I tried, I couldn’t force myself to finish her. My hands wouldn’t move, my knees were shaking. I choked, hard. It was like… like…” A spark broke through the fog in your mind. The situation before you was familiar, in more ways than one. You took a seat next to them and smiled.

            “We call that a conscience, the part of you that tells right from wrong.” You put a hand on their shoulder, and they looked at you in surprise. “Welcome to humanity, Chara.” They looked at your hand, and they smiled back, putting theirs over it.

            “I guess I didn’t have much of a choice after all.”

            “No, you did. The conscience can only suggest actions. It’s up to you to listen or ignore it, and you chose to heed its advice.” They dragged themself up into a sitting position, a little bit of the weariness ebbing away. “I’m proud of you, you know. Honestly, I thought it would take a while longer.” They chuckled, taking your little jab in good humor.

            “Man, that’s you and Asriel rooting for me. I think I get why you’re so pressured all the time.” You put an arm around their back, pulling them into half a hug. Truth be told, it was as much for your frayed nerves as it was for them. “Speaking of which…” Their eyes drifted shut. For a second, all the tension in their muscles disappeared, and when it returned, their eyes had cooled to a less incendiary shade.

            “Did you really have to do that mysterious mentor thing back there? I wake up, see you flipping out, and then you just walk away? Not cool, dude.” You missed that voice more than you could say. You showed it instead by tightening your hold.

            “Worked, didn’t it?”

            “Yeah, but you could’ve done something for the rest of us in here. We were freaking out!” Oh, you had forgotten that, from their perspective, you were going after all of them at once. As the person who had killed most of them. Complete with taunting. The relief turned to ash on your tongue.

            “Oh, I…”

            “Just don’t do that again. We get why you did it this time, but never again.” There was a hard edge to his voice and a silvery gleam in his eye. You nodded, and the pressure let up.

            “Still gonna try to make it up.”

            “We know. You have zero chill there.” His grin turned wry, and you yanked him over by the shoulders before locking him there with an arm bar. You spared him the humiliation of being pet like a dog, just this once.

            “Aw, now that’s sweet.” You and Asriel jumped away from the bed in unison, spinning around with your fists raised. Sitting inches behind you was an all too familiar jester, the dark of night doing nothing to dampen the chaotic palette of his tunic.

            “Who the heck are you and how did you get in here?” Asriel’s features noticeably shifted, the angles of his face growing sharper, and an orange light rose from the back of his throat. For your part, you did well to not fall into traumatized hysterics. Your nervousness wasn’t lost on Asriel, though, and his attempt at intimidation was augmented by genuine anger.

            Not that it fazed your unwanted guest.

            “Calm down there, fuzzy man. And you say Frisk has no chill. Hey pot, name’s kettle, what’s your favorite color?” As refreshing as a sense of humor that didn’t involve puns was, you knew this situation was anything but a laughing matter. You put your dukes down, and Asriel took notice.

            “Don’t bother. He can read minds. Nothing we do can surprise him.”

            “Well, technically I use records of your past actions to predict your course of action to given stimuli, but considering I’m sitting on a rate of ninety-nine percent accuracy…”

            “You know this guy?”

            “Okay, just going to ignore my input, I see how it is.”

            “Kind of. He’s the one that suggested Saving tonight.”

            “Again, I technically just said Saving soon was a good idea. I said nothing about it being tonight.” He tilted his head and scratched at the back of his neck. “By the way, sorry about that whole nervous breakdown thing. That’s why my record dropped a percent.” Asriel’s sclera went pitch black.

            “ _What do you mean by…?_ ”

            “It’s fine.” You waved a hand, signaling him to cool off. He breathed deep and, and his body returned to its normal shape. “Did your boss have another message?”

            “More like the same message with a few tassels changed.” He rolled forward, the bells on his hat jingling as he stuck the landing. “First off, you might want to Save again. Where it is now, you’d be rolling everyone back to when Alphys had a gun pointed at your friend there. No one present wants her to pull the trigger next time, so…”

            “Got it.” The back of your mind tingled, and the image before you became locked in the frame at the deepest point of your consciousness.

            “Neat, no more headshots. Now, I don’t believe Chara finished explaining the deal they mentioned. Go ahead, I’ll wait.” You had almost forgotten your footnote. You glanced at Asriel.

            “In short, they managed to convince Undyne that Hedon was a big enough threat to start a ceasefire. She and Undyne will be coming here tomorrow to discuss things in greater detail, and I’m sure Sans will show up without prompting.”

            “How’d they manage that?”

            “Everyone’s afraid of Chara, and Chara’s afraid of Hedon.” Yeah, that would suffice. “They also made everyone else aware that Hedon was out there, but they only put that point across as him being a professional threat, demon to demon. They did add on a promise to leave our world alone if Hedon was dealt with, so it should balance out.” The wording of that disturbed you somehow.

            _‘They have already agreed to cease aggression, so their portion of the terms are fulfilled.’_

_‘But it would also mean that they couldn’t interact with our world as themself anymore. It would be like a cage.’_

_‘I’m certain they’ve considered as much. As far as prisons go, this one is considerably more plush than the standard.’_ As much as you wanted to chide their guilt complex, that small, quivering, terrified part of you and the steady breathing of the beast stayed your hand.

            “Guess I should thank them for breaking that ice. Still going to be a hard talk, but this makes it easier.” He shrugged, but his expression was still cautiously fixated on Lore Keeper. “You wanted to add to that?” His body shook like a wind up robot coming back to life.

            “I’m supposed to inform you that the attack could be sooner than we had hoped. My boss has been monitoring the balance of your world, and with the way it has been shifting, he estimates that it will be going down on Wednesday, if not before. Be prepared.” You were about to nod in confirmation when Asriel cut in.

            “What do you mean by balance?” Lore’s expression lightened up as though the change in subject was exactly what he needed.

            “It’s quite simple, really.” He pulled two pieces of wood out of an unseen pocket. He set the triangular piece down first and balanced the plank atop so it settled evenly. “We all know that beings like myself are not of your world. We are from an alternate plain that overlaps yours. As such, we radiate a different frequency of energy than natives, and your reality doesn’t much appreciate it.” More blocks entered the equation, these ones perfect cubes that he idly juggled.

            “Our energy is tinted by intent. If we act in benevolence, it’s positive.” A block was set on the right side of the plank. “If in malevolence, it’s negative.” One more on the left. The plank remained flat. “So long as the two intents are applied in equal measure, nothing happens beyond the physical impact of our actions. If one form is funneled into your world too quickly, though…” Block after block piled atop the left side, and the makeshift seesaw toppled over, the weight pulling it from its perch and sending its payload across the floor. “Trust me, you do not want that visual translated up to universal scale. It’s dark and scary and I would prefer not talking about it.”

            “This sounds familiar…” He nodded, and the fear in your heart became almost palpable. You remembered all too clearly what it looked like when Chara achieved dominance. And Chara did so through… “Wait, it’s Determination that’s messing things up?” If so, it meant you possibly added to the imbalance with every waking breath. You, Sans, Chara, and you didn’t want to imagine what a being like Asriel accounted for.

            “Eh, sort of, I think?” He waggled a hand and scratched his head with the other. “Boss explained it to me once, but it didn’t really stick. For what you’re wondering, specifically, no, you shooting lightning isn’t going to break time and space. Just whoever happens to be wearing metal at the time. The balancing act only applies to outer dimensional types.”

            “Like Chara.” Asriel looked both sullen and murderous at once.

            “You would think so, but I think you’re acting as a buffer between them and the fabric of existence. Like, they’re bound to you, and you’re bound to the world, so they’re bound to the world. If this sounds really wonky and complicated, that’s because it is. I’m confused myself. Boss knows what’s going on better than me, but if he set foot here, everything would unravel like a worn out sweater. Not the best idea.”

            “Okay, stop.” The melancholy passed, and Asriel looked entirely finished with the conversation at hand. “You keep talking about this boss. I gather that he’s not Hedon but that he’s like him. We want to stop Hedon, but what does your boss get if we do it? What’s his goal in all this? And before you say he doesn’t have one, remember that you’re talking with the prince of misdirection. Ulterior motives are my thing, and I can tell there’s one here.” The animosity beat down on Lore Keeper, the burning rays of Asriel’s rage making him wilt.

            “I’d tell you if I could but I can’t. Giving you too much intel right now would…”

            “Would what, break the balance? You just said that Hedon already has it tipping in his favor, so what would a little on our side do? Unless you’re not on our side.”

            “It would mask his side. We can only track him through his effect on this universe’s stability. If we do too much here, it will become infinitely harder to pinpoint when he’ll launch his attack. Is getting jumped when you least expect it worth knowing something as trivial as the big guy’s feelings?”

            “If those feelings include the urge to stab us in the back, then yes, I think that would be quite pertinent to know!” With every increasingly loud word in this shouting match, the scowl on your face grew deeper. There was a very real threat on the horizon and two of the people most capable of stopping it were having a slap fight.

            “Would you two pipe down!?” Their linked line of sight broke, but they quickly latched onto yours. It wasn’t every day that you opened your eyes.

            “Asriel, I understand your concern. I’m wary of him, too, but the point stands that if we don’t handle the Hedon situation, it won’t matter what he wants to do to us. If there’s ill intent, we can deal with it once we put out the fire already in the attic.” Asriel pulled back, attempting to make himself look as small as possible.

            “And Lore, I’ve had about all I can take of you talking in circles. I’m going to ask you one question, yes or no, and if you try to weasel out of answering it, we will etch our complaints with your boss’s management into your still beating heart.”

            “But, aren’t you a pacifist? And I don’t actually have a…” You grabbed him by the throat and pulled him down to your level, fully aware that you didn’t have to worry about strangling him.

            “ _I_ am, but _Gaster_ isn’t, and we both absolutely despise when you high and mighty types try to flaunt your superiority over us. I’ve been talked down to more times than I can count in the last year and, frankly, I’m this close to letting the beast out if it means not hearing any more ‘holier than thou’ dribble.” You could feel the crimson light edging into your perception, but it was overwhelmed by the golden glow of your true heart. “And I don’t care about your biology. I’ll carve it into your forehead if I must. Am I clear?” The leather under your hand bulged as he audibly gulped.

            “Crystal.”

            “Good. Now, does your boss wish to hurt, kill, dominate, or otherwise inconvenience us?” He shook his head, and when you were sure it was his answer and not a bout of nervous quivering, you released your vice grip. He quickly put as much distance as possible between himself and the angry little human. “Is there anything else you wanted to say?”

            “No, Sir. I mean…” You held a hand up. There was more to worry about than possible misgendering.

            “Then go. I’ll be more composed next time we meet, but for now, get out of here.” He didn’t waste any time with fancy theatrics. He slipped under your bed, and his presence lifted from the air. You let out a ragged sigh, and your eyelids drifted closed.

            “Um… Frisk?” Asriel tentatively uncurled from his defensive ball, and as disgusting as frightening him made you feel, you didn’t have the energy left for much more than an exhausted sigh.

            “Sorry, dude, it’s just…” You dropped to the floor, hunching over and holding your head up with your palms. “I’m tired of this stupid, tangled yarn ball we’re stuck with, and it’s all coming up to bite me today.” You heard him scooting across the carpet towards you, but you didn’t blame him for stopping a few feet short.

            “I get what you mean. I’m literally a living can of worms.”

            “And when someone opens it, it’s up to me to repackage the worms. People trust me, and when they’re not sure about something, in this case you, they come to me. Who’s going to be the broker for you and Undyne tomorrow?” You glanced back, and he looked sufficiently like a deer in the headlights.

            “Oh damnit, and we’re supposed to be weening you off of doing everything! How did we…?”

            “Again, everyone trusts me. Being the trump card isn’t healthy, but there’s a reason I end up as it.” You put on a calm smile, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. You could _feel_ the bags under your eyes. If Mettaton was present, he would be pouring makeup into your face like wet cement into a pothole. Asriel quickly closed the distance and leaned up against you, safe in the knowledge that you were too tired to bite his head off again.

            “You can waive that favor we were talking about earlier. Chara doesn’t have one, but they feel like they owe you something, so let’s drop everything and call us even.” You wanted to reaffirm that you didn’t mind, but you were sure Gaster would’ve found a way to constrict your speech with the string on his mask if you tried being selfless in this case.

            “Deal.” Honestly, it felt good to have a little less on your plate.

            “Wait, you’re not going to argue?”

            “After an afternoon spent fighting Chara as Chara, worrying about my friends and family being killed, interrogating Chara after they almost killed my friends and family, and being toyed with by a neon-leather clown, I'm in no place to ask for more responsibilities.”

            “Our lives are really that crazy now, aren’t they?” You smirked, laughing under your breath.

            “The fact that everyone in this room has died at least once didn’t tip you off?”

            “You know, I just realized, everyone we know has technically died at least once in a couple of timelines. Are we in Heaven?” You had the widest smile on your face, a real one this time.

            “Or maybe death is just like a Reset, and we’re all Souls from different layers of life.”

            “Oh gosh, don’t start the conspiracy theory crafting. Our lives are weird enough without you making tin hats.” You were both low-key laughing now. For all your complaining, it was moments like this that made it all worthwhile. You were aware you were the sibling of a fire breathing, goat shaped sack of dead people that could turn into a bigger, almost goat shaped sack with angry eyes and rainbow wings, but this moment with that brother was pleasantly normal.

            “Hey, Az, after all this insanity is finished and done with, how about we all just go out and do something as a family? I’m curious how fire goats deal with ice skating.” The image of Asgore slipping on the ice ran through your heads, and you both had to clamp your mouths shut. You were jealous of how easy his snout made that task.

            “Actually, I’ve been curious what all this hubbub about Disneyland is about. Humans always talk about it like some golden kingdom, and I can’t help but take that as a challenge.” It wasn't as good as the ice skating fantasy, but you could see Papyrus going full blast on every ride in the park, from roller coaster to teacups. Wait…

            “We need to get Asgore on a teacup ride. Right now.” Your treacherous respiratory system put the breaks on those plans with a poorly timed yawn, and the infectious nature of the act hit Asriel soon after. “Okay, fine, not now. But it will happen soon, mark my words.”

            “No objections over here.” Asriel was kind enough to pull you up with him and spare you the energy. “But before that, we have to stay alive, and if we want to stay alive, we need to convince Undyne not to skewer me again.” Yeah, that would put a damper on…

            “Wait, again? I feel like you missed a few points in your explanation.”

            “I don’t think I’ll be missing points any time soon. Let’s just say I’m lucky to have a Determination wizard on hand and leave it at that. I’ll tell you the rest later." He guided you to your bed, and your eyelids gained twenty pounds each once you were encased in your sheets. “Night, Frisk. Still no hard feelings, right?” You rolled your eyes. He could be surprisingly sensitive.

            “None at all. Don’t have it in me to hold a grudge. Night, bro.” Once he left your sight, all reason to stay awake fled your body, and your muscles went into the stasis of sleep ahead of your brain. It didn’t take too long to follow, floating away to a dreamscape replete with your friends being… your friends at an amusement park. It helped take the sting out of the storm building on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, only a week late. Life conspires against my art (and by life, I mean college application stuff. You know how it goes. Also, the lobotomized chimpanzees that operate my internet provider cut the cables for no reason for nearly a week and writing while absolutely furious is generally a bad idea. See if you can spot where I tried that exact thing.)
> 
> Oh well, water under the bridge now. Things are otherwise good. A large stack of games to play, a literal crate full of books to read, enough coffee to give a blue whale caffeine poisoning, I love Christmas time. And know what else? Remaster of The World Ends with You announced for the Switch. A console I, regrettably, don't own, but that doesn't matter! IT LIVES! And on the ascending star of Nintendo's return to quirky greatness, to boot. All hail the holy 'Phones, the only emo boy on Square's roster I care about! Time to replay the version I do own in celebration. If there's an increase in Bill's involvement in future chapters, you now know why.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, verily, the amorphous blob rises from his tomb once more, baring a gift of stories! Just, you know, let him grab some coffee first. It's been a long couple of weeks. Severe stomach bugs, declined entries into writing workshops, an inability to play the new Persona whilst the internet is tripping over itself to spoil it rotten. Truly his lot is a difficult one...
> 
> Okay, enough third person talk. I'm still alive, here's main entry number three after about half a year of side stories. Give or take, time's, ironically, not my strong suit. And yeah, count on Asriel getting a healthy chunk of the runtime. You could recreate the Tomb of Giants with the skeletons in that closet (and I don't mean Sans.) He won't get it all, but between him and the seven people in his headspace, I'm sure you get the picture.
> 
> So, chapter two will be out in about a week, as per the usual, and I should have a little something extra out there sometime later this week. Not an Undertale thing, but if you like my style of action scene writing, you might like my take on a Monster Hunter session. Count on that about Wednesday, Thursday at the latest. Yay Spring Break!


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